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Name: Karin

Age: 27

Date of birth: 3rd January 1974

Sex: Male

Nationality: Unknown

Weight: human form - 92kgs wolf form - 31kgs

Height: human form - 6"2'

Blood Type: Unknown

Eye colour: Red

Occupation/Job: Protector

Hobbies: Hunting

Abilities: Strong Psycokenetic and Telepathic abitilties, sees human emotion as part of normal vision.

Favorite Food: Deer

Favorite Drink: None

Favorite Colour: Red

Likes: Hunting, Sleeping, Eating, Howling

Dislikes: Fighting

Short History: Karin was asked to join the Omega wolf pack after meeting Silver, who has now left the pack. Karin has spent most of his life alone, he was taken by white tiger changelings as a cub and taken to their temple, this is how he got his eyes, and his psychic abilities. After being captured, was abandoned back in the forest. By meeting the Omega pack, met up with Haquba, a white tiger changeling, daughter of one of the white tigers that captured him, she gifted him with a human form. Upon returning to the temple of the changelings, declared his love for Haquba…and found out that he was destined to be haquba’s protector, as she is the last of her race. His eyes mean that he can see other people’s emotions as part of his normal vision, with concentration, can manipulate small creatures and sometimes larger ones, including other wolves and humans. In his human form he wears a black leather jacket, no shirt, arctic camouflage pants, black leather boots, and black leather fingerless gloves, his weapon in a large shotgun which is carried across his back, but so far has only needed this for hunting.

The short story below gives more information on Haquba and Karin...

Karin left the hospital and his dying wife and drove east to the sea. The roads were thick with cars fleeing the city for the unusually warm Easter weekend, so Karin had to concentrate on traffic, leaving only the most tenuous of touches in his wife’s mind. Haquba was sleeping. Her dreams were fitful and drug-induced. She was seeking her mother through endlessly interlinked rooms filled with Victorian furniture. Images from these dreams slid between the evening shadows of reality as Karin crossed the Pine Barrens. She awoke just as Karin was leaving the parkway, and for the few seconds that the pain was not with her, Karin was able to share the clarity of sunlight falling across the blue blanket at the foot of her bed; then he shared the quick vertigo of confusion as she thought – only for a second – that it was morning in the forest. Her thoughts reached for him just as the pain returned, stabbing behind her left eye like a thin but infinitely sharp needle. Karin grimaced and dropped the coin he was handing the tollbooth attendant. ‘Something wrong pal?’ Karin shook his head, fumbled out another coin, and thrust it blindly at the man. Tossing his change into the Triumph’s cluttered console, he concentrated on pushing the little car up through its gears while shielding himself from the worst of Haquba’s pain. Slowly the agony faded but her confusion washed over him like a wave of nausea. She quickly gained control despite the shifting curtains of fear that fluttered at the edges of her consciousness. She subvocalised, concentrating on narrowing the spectrum of what she shared to a simulacrum of her voice. ‘Hi, Karin.’ ‘Hi, yourself, kiddo’ He sent the thought as he turned onto the exit of Long Beach Island. Karin shared the visual – The startling green of grass and pine trees overlaid with the gold of April light, the sports cars shadow leaping along the curve of the embankment as he followed the cloverleaf down to the road. Suddenly there came the unmistakable salt-and-rotting vegetation scent of the Atlantic, and he shared that with her as well. ‘Nice.’ Haquba’s thoughts were slurred with the static of too much pain and medication. She clung to the images he sent with almost feverish concentration of will.

The entrance to the seaside community was disappointing: dilapidated seafood restaurants, overpriced cinderblock motels, endless marinas. But it was reassuring in its familiarity to both of them, and Karin concentrated on seeing all of it. Haquba began to relax a bit as the terrible swells of pain abated, and for a second her presence was so real that Karin caught himself half turning to speak to her in the passenger’s seat. The pang of regret and embarrassment was sent before he could stifle it. The driveways of beach homes were filled with families unpacking station wagons and carrying late dinners to the beach. The evening shadows carried the nip of early spring, but Karin concentrated on the fresh air and the warmth of the low strips of sunlight as he drove north to Barnegat Light. He glanced right and caught a glimpse of a half a dozen fishermen standing in the surf, their shadows intersecting the white lines of the breakers. ‘Monet’, thought Haquba, and Karin nodded. Haquba’s voice faded as the pain returned. Half-formed sentences shredded like the spray rising from the white breakers.

Karin Left the Triumph parked near the lighthouse and walked through low dunes to the beach. He threw down the tattered blanket that they had carried so many times to just this spot. A group of children ran past, squealing as they came close to the surf. Despite the cold water and rapidly chilling air, they were dressed in swimsuits. One girl of about nine, all long white legs in a suit a year too small, pranced on the wet sand in an intricate and unconscious choreography with the sea. The light was fading between the Venetian blinds. A nurse smelling of cigarettes and stale talcum powder came in to change the IV drip and to take a pulse. The intercom in the hall continued to make loud, imperative announcements, but it was difficult to understand them through the growing haze of pain. Dr Singh arrived about six P.M. and spoke to her softly, but Haquba’s attention was riveted on the doorway where the nurse with the blessed needle would arrive. The cotton swab on her arm was a delightful preliminary to the promised surcease of pain. Haquba knew to the second how many minutes it would take before the morphine would begin to work in earnest. The doctor was saying something. ‘…your husband?' I thought he would be staying the night.’ ‘Right here, doctor,’ said Haquba. She patted the blanket and the sand. Karin pulled on his leather jacket against the chill of coming night. The stars were occluded by a high cloud layer that only allowed a bit of sky to show through. Far out to sea, an improbably long oil tanker moved along the horizon. Windows of the beach homes behind Karin cast yellow rectangles on the dunes.

The smell of steak being grilled came to him on the breeze. Karin tried to remember whether he had eaten that day or not. His stomach twisted in a mild shadow of the pain that still filled Haquba even now the medication was working. Karin considered going back to the convenience store near the lighthouse to get something, but remembered an old Payday candy bar he had purchased from a vending machine in the hospital corridor during the previous week’s vigil, it wasn’t meat, but he didn’t mind. It was still in his jacket pocket. Karin contented himself with chewing on the rock-hard wedge of peanuts while he watched the evening settle in. Footsteps continued to echo in the hall. It sounded like entire armies were on the march. The rush of footsteps, the clatter of trays, and vague chatter of aides bringing dinner to the other patients reminded Haquba of lying in bed as a child and listening to one of her parents’ stories downstairs. ‘Remember the forest where we met?’ sent Karin. ‘Mmmm.’ Haquba’s attention was thin. Already the black fingers of panic were creeping around the edge of her awareness as the pain began to overwhelm the painkiller. The thin needle behind her eye seemed to grow hotter. Karin tried to send memory images of that moment in the forest, a decade earlier, of their first meeting, of that second when their minds had opened to one another and they had realised I am not alone. And then the corollary realisation, I am not a freak. There in the forest, among Karin’s newly adopted wolf pack, amid the tense babble, and even tenser neurobabble of the wolves around, their lives had been changed forever.

Karin was dozing with the other wolves – he had just eaten and was resting – when suddenly he had smelt another creature in the forest, not a wolf, but a tiger, more importantly; he sensed another mindshield quite near him. He had put out a gentle probe, and immediately Haquba’s thoughts had swept across him like a searchlight in a dark room. Both were stunned. Their first reaction had been to increase the strength of their mindshields, to roll up like frightened armadillos. Each soon found that useless against the unconscious and almost involuntary probes of the other. Neither had ever encountered another telepath of more than primitive, untapped ability. Each had assumed that he or she was a freak – unique and unassailable. Now they stood naked before each other in an empty space. A second later, almost without volition, they flooded each other’s minds with a torrent of images, self-images, half-memories, secrets, preferences, perceptions, hidden shames, half-formed longings, and fully formed fears. Nothing was held back. Every petty cruelty committed, sexual experiment experienced, and prejudice harboured poured out along with thoughts of past birthday parties, former lovers, parents, and an endless stream of trivia. Rarely had two people known each other as well after fifty years of being together.

A minute later they met for the first time.

The beacon from Barnegat Light passed over Karin’s head every twenty-four seconds. There were more lights burning out at sea now that along the dark line of beach. The wind had come up after midnight, and Karin clutched the blanket around himself tightly. Haquba had refused the needle when the nurse had made her last rounds, but her mindtouch was still clouded. Karin forced the contact through sheer strength of will. Haquba had always been afraid of the dark, strange considering her tiger changeling form. Many were the times during their marriage that he had reached out in the night with his mind or an arm to reassure her. Now she was a frightened little tiger cub again, left alone in the forest. There were things in the darkness. Karin reached through her pain and confusion to share the sound of the sea. He lay in the hollow of the sand to match his body with hers on the hospital bed. Slowly she began to relax, to surrender her thoughts to his. She even managed to doze a few times without the morphine, and her dreams were the movement of stars between clouds, and the sharp smell of the Atlantic. Karin described the week’s hunting – what little hunting he had done between hospital vigils – Karin seemed to be using his wolf form less and less as the years past, his changeling abilities were of course given to him by Haquba. He shared what little poetry he had memorised, but the words kept sliding into pure images, and purer feelings.

The night drew on, and Karin shared the cold clarity of it with his wife, adding to each image the warm overlay of his love. He shared trivia and hopes for the future. From seventy-five miles away he reached out and touched her hand with his. When he drifted off to sleep for only a few minutes, he sent her his dreams.

Haquba died just before the first false light of dawn touched the sky.