&nicky

As is typical of pelts belonging to wolves and coyotes, Nicky’s coat is mixture of various shades of gray and red hairs. Her legs, paws, muzzle and ears are a warm, rich tan with a hint of red undertones. Her belly and throat have more white hairs mixed in. Her bushy tail darkens in color so that the tip of it is almost black. Her coat itself is luxurious and thick. In the wintertime it fluffs up, giving others the illusion that she is bigger than she actually is.

From a distance, it is easy to mistake her for a wolf, but upon closer inspection, it’s clear that she is not. The main giveaway is her size. Nicky is a very petite animal, clearly feminine, standing at a mere 21 inches and weighing in at about 40lbs. Her features are small compared to the bulk of her body. For example, her paws look to be a couple sizes too small for her legs. Her muzzle is quite narrow and her nose almost comes to a sharp point. Her eyes are small and very slightly inset, lined with black skin, just as her lips are. This gives her a sharp look, no matter what her actual facial expression might be, comparable to a hawk or some other bird of prey. To add to all of this, her ears appear to be far too large for her head and are perfect triangles, right to their very tips.

The name coyote is derived from the Aztec word “cóyotl” which means trickster &Nicky remains true to form. She is not evil or cruel and generally doesn’t mean any harm. She doesn’t every start out intending to be a bully, but she easily offends those she meets with her rude demeanor, unthoughtful gestures and snarky comments. Everything that she does is done absolutely one hundred percent on purpose. She loves getting a rise and will do anything to find the biggest button she can push to make you blow your top and explode. She will wear away at you until she finds all of the things that make you tick. Nicky thinks that it is pure entertainment to crawl underneath your skin and make you itch.

She is selfish and the only skin she’ll save is the skin on her own back. She is cunning and dishonest in that she lies if and when it suits her and if she can see the end result being beneficial. It is always a toss-up if she will keep her word or not. One should only trust her as far as you could throw her.

Nicky is a chameleon and a parrot, blending in and fitting in wherever she is placed and says what you want to hear. Behind your back she may or may not say otherwise, pleasing all and pleasing no one by doing so, holding a handmade shiv to your spine only after you’re convinced that you were the best of friends, practically blood.

She likes to get what she wants, but doesn’t really want much. She doesn’t try to be liked, doesn’t try to win over your heart or even your respect. Loyalty is non-existant for her and she does not expect loyalty from anyone no matter how close she might be with them. “Close” is also all relative. Everything is temporary to her. Nothing lasts. She knows she’ll leave one day, she’ll be gone one day. She won’t stay. Even if you asked nicely.

For the majority of Nicky’s life, she has lived and traveled with a small pack of her kind. It was a ragamuffin group, compromised of animals loosely related to one another. For the first few years, the pack was made up of her father, her two brothers from the same litter, an aunt, a half-sister or two from previous litters, and a couple of cousins who came and went, doing whatever was most beneficial for them. They thrived in the metropolitan areas just outside of Eastmoor’s city center, a place where undomesticated canines would normally find it difficult to survive.

When they ventured further out, closer to small townships and little clusters of human populations, they would mingle with other coyotes, often forming a band of multiple packs, combining their numbers for months at a time before falling apart and regrouping by families again. Nicky has always been content with this vagabond style of living being that it is all she has ever known. Because of it, she has met and interacted with a variety of species.

Her relationship with wolves has been a competitive one. One of her earliest memories is when her father seized an opportunity to kill the pups from a wolf pack that had been infringing upon their territory. The very same deed had been done to the litter he had been from; he had been the only surviving pup. Nicky, once she was grown, tended to be indifferent to wolves. They left her alone and she returned the favor. When she was young and stupid, she tried to steal a piece of carrion before the wolves were finished with it. The beta took off after her and the only way that Nicky was able to get him off her tail was by employing a trick her wily cousin had bragged about. She led the wolf downhill and when he was nearly on top of her, she made a 180 degree turn back up the hill. Being lighter and thus more nimble on her feet than a full grown timber wolf, she was able to ascend more quickly than the wolf and dart to safety. Now that she is older, Nicky does not make as many impulsive and irrational choices as she once did.

In following with the common stereotypes and unspoken coyote laws, Nicky grew up pestering foxes. Those of that species were well aware of this and tended to steer wide and clear of anything that resembled coyote land. Nicky’s first kill was a gray fox, albeit a sickly one, when she was eight months of age. She had instigated the incident, provoking the resting animal until it grew agitated enough to give her the excitement and entertainment she wanted. By the time Nicky was a year old, the pack had moved north, further up the coast and very rarely came into contact with gray foxes again.

Nicky’s pack had never been one to prey on domesticated dogs. For a time, they lived in the industrial part of Eastmoor, in the back of a large hardware store that carried various types of wood to be cut into fence boards and posts as well as mountains of cinder, gravel, and sawdust. Nearby, there was a dog park. Nicky would sit atop the wood shavings, often with one of her packmates, and they would watch the dogs get let off their leashes and frolic with a sort of joyful abandon that she still does not understand.

When they humans began their slow but steady destruction of one another and eventual demise, Nicky’s pack left town. They hoped to escape the chaos and ruin, but there was no escape from it. Nicky quickly tired of being constantly on the run and took her leave. It wasn’t a sudden change. She had been wandering off and away from her family for a while now, and she felt more thn ready to take the plunge and claim her full independance. Once things quieted down, she returned to Eastmoor and delved right into the heart of it, boldly going where before no coyote had dared to set foot.