For all of your life, you and your mother had lived a nomadic lifestyle, never settling down, hunting when and how you wanted, sleeping whenever you wanted. It was bliss.

Your mother, Boudicca, is, in your opinion, the best mom you could ask for. She raised you herself, as your father, the miserable bastard that he is, abandoned her shortly after impregnating her with you. Sure, she was pissed at him, but she never, never, took it out on you. Sure, she was harsh, but that was because the life the two of you had was... not the most stable. You both constantly had to hide from human hunters, and vampires alike. She taught you everything you know, how to hunt, how to clean yourself, and how to find suitable shelter to sleep in.

A few weeks before you turned 16, however, your life changed dramatically. For some reason, still unknown to you, she found a pack and joined them. Naturally, you joined her. You... never exactly managed to properly fit in, constantly clashing with the other werewolves of the pack, all of whom had grown up in the pack. You were exactly like your mother, completely independent, though she managed to adapt a lot quicker.

Currently, you find yourself hunched over a fire in the den you share with your mother. It's small, but the furs and bone decorations on the walls make it feel... oddly homely, and warm compared to the tundra outside, but your thick coat of fur keeps you warm. Which is something you've rarely felt for a place, as you and your mom tended to move around alot.