October 18, 07 Calivere is going to recieve a new layout and such soon - his page has just been moved from Neopets. The links to his family, which currently link to their neopets lookups, will be changed soon, as well as the link that leads to my neo lookup. Everything else will.. change too, as soon as I have the time. In the mean time.. feel free to look around! 8D

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June 30, 07 Calivere's new layout is finished! 8D Fairly soon I plan to start adding the pictures throughout his page. But in the meantime, enjoy. :3

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June 30, 07 At the moment, I am working on Calivere's new layout. Hurrah? There are also quite a few new adoptables made by some very sweet people. ;D

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June 27, 07 Yes, I know I said I was going to make Cal a new layout soon. Unfortunately, I've had an 'inspiration' block, plus I have alot of other important things to draw first.
I'll be making one whenever I can, though. D;

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May 18, 07. At the moment, I will be working on a new layout for Cal. I wasn't very happy with the other one, but I was planning on making a better one anyway. But I left this up for everyone to enjoy if they wanted to; sorry for the lack of pictures. They should be coming soon, along with the new layout. =)
Oh, and Calivere's story has been put up. It's very long, but you can read it if you want. ;D

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Yay, Cal got a new petpage! 8D -dance-
I may redo it eventually, but for now, it's going
to stay. Note that this is under heavy construction,
therefore, a little bland. I'm going to be adding pictures, adoptables,
etc. very soon. Be sure to check back soon! Also, I would really appreciate it if you would grab his link that is available at the bottom of the page. Thanks!

I was born an ordinary pup, the child of Auri, my mother, and Nuta, my father. My brother Niaruk, the same age as I, looked like my father - tall, powerful and the color of ebony. I was more like my mother, who was quiet and calm, and a slightly pale shade of grey. My father was a wolf, my mother a wolf mixed with something else. We had found a large den a little bit east of a large city; every night we could see it's small lights shining from our home. It was a perfect fit for us, once we had expanded it a little bit.
My mother would always remain home with Niaruk and I, keeping an eye on us while we romped - my father would be gone most of the time, out trying to catch food. But it was scarce, and often he returned with nothing, and when he did, it was usually only a rabbit. Eventualy, this forced us to move our home, so we traveled north-east for a long time until we stopped in the mountains. We found another den that had been scraped out beneath a fallen tree and made it our newly found home. The forest around us was beautiful; the entire area was surrounded with trees, aspens and pine trees, mostly, that climbed up the mountains we lived in. My father found it somewhat easier to hunt, and often found bigger game such as deer - later, when we were a little older, my mother had to go help him bring them down.

Living without a pack was difficult. The winters here were brutal, and it was difficult to find enough food to last us through the months where we were surrounded in a foot of snow, sometimes more. My brother and I, however, were exhilerated whenever we saw the huge drifts of sparkling white snowflakes everywhere - we often tried to run on top of it, often falling through mounds so deep that the tips of our ears were the only things visible. But somehow, we managed on our own, every year. We always looked foward to spring when it came; it made things much easier.
Niaruk and I had been playing one spring day, when we were a few months away from being a year old. My mother had stayed behind to watch us, our father off to hunt small game. We ran around, nipping at one anothers heals and tugging on tails and ears. Eventually, I was tired from all of the excitement and retreated to lay down near my mother. Niaruk continued to play with himself, grabbing a stick to entertain himself with. Suddenly, he dropped it and let out a shrill cry, limping back towards us with a bleeding paw due to a snake bite. It stopped bleeding a little while later and had swelled a little, but it didn't look like anything serious. Things went on normally the rest of the day, but the next morning, my mother wasn't able to get Niaruk to get up. He was awake, but looked on the verge of loosing conciousness, and couldn't stand. Finally, he was able to get up, a little shakily at first, but seemed alright enough to walk around a bit. But his condition only worsened; he looked frail and sick - poison from the snake bite was being pumped through his veins every minute. A few days later, when my mother went to get him up in the early morning, we found him dead.
My father was alarmed when he came home later that day, a large rabbit clutched in his jaws. Still holding it and looking in between me and my mother, he slowly crept into the den, wondering what was wrong. He immediately ran back out as if terrified to see his son, dropping the rabbit in the dust. His eyes wide and his chest heaving, he circled the area for a moment, then slowly went back inside the den. Shortly after, we heard a quiet, distressed whimpering from inside. It was my father. Later that day, towards dark, my father took Niaruk out of the den and laid him a small distance away, though it pained him to do so. Then he left for a short period of time to be alone.
My mother slept outside of the den, though normally, we would be active on and off during the night. Now, we could only lay around, drowning in our own greif but not speaking about it. I climbed up on top of the den, laying on one of the rocks that made it's roof, and just sat there, staring blankly at the hazy trees all around us. All of a sudden, they seemed so strange and unwelcoming. Eventually, however, they must have welcomed me back. A few weeks after my brothers death, I found it comforting to walk throughout the mountains, often when I felt angry or upset. I felt more at ease being by myself for a few hours of the day. I know no other place that would have felt as comforting as the mountains.
I started to grow quickly, almost as tall as my mother. I felt more responsible now, as if I had to look out for my mother whenever my father was gone. I also went out with my father to hunt, starting out with smaller game first. My mother would sometimes join us, but most of the time, stayed behind. Soon, I was bringing back beavers and rabbits that I had caught, though sometimes, nothing at all. Then, winter came again, and I remember laying inside the den, looking out at the white sheets of snow and trying not to imagine my brother's body beneath it, cold and alone.

But slowly, things started to change. My father didn't seem the same anymore; at first, it wasn't a big deal, but gradually, he grew more aggressive towards us, especially me. He often would avoid us, going out even when he didn't need to hunt. Eventually, he stopped bringing us food, so I would go out and bring back smaller animals, since I couldn't catch anything large on my own. But when he returned, we knew he had eaten something - there would be the scent of meat on his breath, blood on his lips and chin. He never said anything about it. I loved my father, but I couldn't tolerate his anger towards us.
There was one time where he and my mother got in an argument. Furiated, he leapt up on top of her and pinned her to the ground, snarling. She yelped and squirmed, trying to get out from under his grip, and eventually, he let go of her. She cowered, slinking off. I just watched, fearful for our safety, though I was almost as large as he was now and could defend myself. But my mother was growing frail, emotionally and physically, and I was worried about her. When it seemed like my father would hurt someone, I decided I couldn't stand it any longer. One morning, when the sun had barely risen and my father had been long gone, I woke my mother with a gentle nudge. She followed me wordlessly, her expression blank. We left the den, walking towards the mountains. Before our den, our home, dissapeared from veiw, I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. My father stood, watching us. It hurt to leave him, but I soon realized that it hurt to leave the person he used to be, not the person he was now. I wasn't sure if he'd survive on his own, and didn't want to think about him dying, or think about leaving my brother's body there. But we had no choice; someone could get hurt. When he made no move to follow, I turned back to the trees and, leading my mother, continued. That was the last time I would see him, our home.

We hiked far into the mountains, and it took a few days before we found a place to settle down. There was a cave made out of fallen rocks and trees, partially hidden in dense brush that covered the area. Fatigued, my mother crept inside to investigate, but it wasn't long before she curled up inside and fell asleep. She hadn't spoken the whole time we had traveled, nor did she protest about our leaving. I don't think she regretted leaving, or at least, not at the moment. When it was dark, I crept inside with her and curled up beside her, though I remained wide awake for a long time. When I drifted off to sleep, listening to her soft breathing, I dreamed about my brother, laying beneath the snow. But then the image faded, and I saw us together, playing as pups. The images continued to change at random, then they faded all together until they were no more.
We adjusted to our new home over time, though at first it felt so different and uncomfortable. When I had to hunt in the morning, I was concerned to leave my mother by herself, but she seemed fine, if not oddly quiet. All the same, I made sure I hunted nearby for the first few days. But we started enjoying our time together. We would go sit together beside the river not far from our den, gazing at the water and talking about things. We didn't mention my father at all for a long time, but even when we did, we didn't pursue the subject; we each had our own thoughts and kept them to ourselves. I'm sure she thought about him at times though, by her expression. I think she missed his old self, like I did. But she never made an attempt to return.

My mother started to grow older even when she was still fairly young. She was so worn down, losing a battle she hadn't chosen to fight, her heart broken twice to many times. At times I felt like her father, because she seemed so helpless, and I felt responsible for looking after her. Sometimes, you hear people say that someone can die of a broken heart. We were sitting beside the river one morning. It was beautiful outside; it was spring and warm outside, the sun bright and the trees swaying in a cool breeze. My mother leaned against my shoulder, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly. We sat for a long time together. I was immersed in thought, feeling at peace with everything around me. Suddenly, my mother gave a strangled cough, and I looked over at her, concerned. When asking if she was alright, she didn't answer. She simply stared out over the water. Finally, she leaned her head back on my shoulder, closing her eyes. A small smile turned the corners of her lips. Her eyes still shut, she began to talking - I didn't know if it was to herself or me - about when I was a pup, about my brother, about my father. Finally, her topic changed.
Will you be okay?
Puzzled, I asked, What?
I can feel my heart giving way, Cal. I won't be around much longer...
My heart skipped a beat. Mother... I could feel my eyes watering, and I blinked fervently, staring into space.
Stretching her neck, she licked my forehead comfortingly. You'll be alright. It's okay. Everything has been made right, and I'm happy. You have made me feel so happy again. I couldn't reply; my voice had left me. She let out a long sigh, snuggling against my neck. I craned my neck over her, licking her forehead in return. I could feel her muscles relax, as if I had approved her departure. Suddenly, she was gone. I felt her go limp against me, a small smile on her lips as she went. I studied her expression, feeling a lump in my throat, so large I wasn't sure if I could breath. Taking in a shaky breath, I suddenly felt all of my tears spill over. I pressed my cheek against her head, cuddling her, feeling the world crashing down around me. I didn't want to feel, think, live, breath. Why, why, why...

Later that day, when the stars began to appear in the dark sky abovehead, I gently dragged her over to the trees. I searched for a long time in the fading light until I found a beautiful spot amongst some wild flowers, surrounded by bushes and trees. Satisfied, I gently lay her in the bed of flowers, taking one last moment to look at her. I was glad she had gone peacefully, but all the while I could feel my heart breaking. It felt like someone had ripped it in half. Bending down, I licked her cheek, straightened, and left, once more feeling tears threatening to take over. For a moment, I wanted to run back to her like I would as a pup, and she would be okay, only sleeping. I wanted to believe anything else, but it felt as if there was nothing to believe in. Nothing.
I slept fitfully that night, often awakening late at night and bursting into tears, remembering what had happened. I would have given anything to go with her. Finally, dawn came in an array of gold and gray. I felt like I would go mad if I stayed, though I regretted having to leave my mother there. Once more, I thought about my brother lying beneath the blankets of snow, but now I imagined my mother beside him. Shaking my head to rid myself of the images, I looked back at the dark trees. Somewhere in there, she lay in a bed of flowers. Turning away and gazing out over the plains, I could see the faint outline of the city, miles away. Sighing, having to blink back another oncome of tears, I left.
I didn't know where I was going to go. I would miss the mountains, the trees, the rivers. But I couldn't stay. I couldn't. I wandered for a while, eating rabbits and berries, if I was able to eat at all. I felt tired, as if someone had placed a large weight over my back that wouldn't leave even when I shook myself. Soon, I had reached the city I saw in the distance. Having nowhere else to go, I started to wander on the streets, eating garbage and whatever else I could find, sometimes rats and mice that resided in the holes that had been worn away in walls. I saw many people there, and feeling threatened, I kept away from them as often as I could, though sometimes, I couldn't avoid them, no matter how hard I tried. I saw the cars they drove, too, and their blinding lights. I grew used to seeing them, though I still felt uneasy around them at times, especially when I was close to them.

Soon, I wasn't even aware of what I had done that day, struggling to think about it. I never payed attention to anything anymore. I saw things and yet, didn't. I quickly began to starve, never finding enough food to satisfy my hunger. I could feel an ache all over my body because I hadn't eaten anything. Soon, I went days without eating more than a bite. Believing I was going to die and accepting it almost willingly, I didn't even bother to eat anything after a while. I must have looked like a living skeleton to the pedestrians that walked around night and day. Being starved so long finally took it's toll on me. I had stopped in an alleyway one night, trying to get out of the cold rain that left me soaked and shivering, when I my vision seemed to blur. Before I could do anything, my knees suddenly buckled and I toppled to the ground. A wave of pain came over me, and I felt like I was going to be sick. Blinking, I remained motionless, shivering uncontrollably. Finally, I lost conciousness.
I re-awoke a few moments later. Stumbling to my feet, I left the alleyway and made my way to the street, where cars were busily passing, their lights almost blinding me. I could barely see what went on around me - my vision was still blurry. Urging myself to move, I unconsciously walked out into the street... I didn't see the car that was coming at me, and it must not have seen me... I only realized it was there when I heard a loud honk, and turning my head, saw the bright lights less than a foot away. Then it hit me. I skidded across the street, hitting my head multiple times on the road. The worst thing about it was that I was still concious... my sides had been skinned on the rough asphalt, my head thudding... but the worst of it all was the constant ache everywhere in my body. It felt like someone had ripped at me, torn at me, until I was nothing... wishing I would just die, I lay there, my vision blurring, then returning to normal... blurring, normal. It took my injured senses a long time before I realized I was laying in a puddle of water. Letting my eyes wander down to the ground, I realized that it wasn't water, but my own blood. Gagging, I also saw something else. My leg... my left foreleg had been ripped almost completely off, but still attached by a strand of torn muscle and skin. Before I could stop myself, I vomited, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I blinked again as my vision blurred, but slowly, instead of returning to normal, it faded completely. I felt panicked, seeing only darkness. I tried to move, but I couldn't... I felt paralyzed. Shuddering, my head dropped to the ground with a thud. Light-headed, I closed my eyes, losing conciousness.
Afterwards, I would continue slipping in and out of conciousness, only aware of things for a few moments before I slipped back into the dark. I remember one of those moments where I was partially awake... I was being lifted up by someone or something, held by two strong arms. I still felt light-headed and dizzy, but secure. I looked up blearily, at first seeing nothing. But then, I saw a man's face looking down at me... I saw he was an older man, though strong and still able, but his expression seemed a little concerned. Trying to squirm, I found that I couldn't without sending waves of pain throughout my body. I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut. Defensively, I lifted my lips in a snarl, though it must not have been convincing. The man carried me somewhere, but I couldn't see... eventually, I lost conciousness again, unwillingly.

I awoke what must have been hours later, though it was still dark and raining outside. At first, it hurt to even open my eyes. When I did, I wasn't able to see anything clearly for a long time. My body felt numb, so much that I thought I had been paralyzed at first... I was lying on something hard, though I wasn't sure what it was. Finally, when my vision was able to focus a little bit, I was able to look around a little, though it was hard to do so without moving my head - when I tried to, I felt a wave of nausea come over me. Swallowing, an apalling taste still in my mouth, I looked around as best I could. I was able to guess that I was in a basement, from what I now know. There were many weird things down there - there were many shelves on one wall, holding an assortment of things. There were books, plants, strange objects I couldn't identify. There was a large glass bowl with many little trinkets inside, such as coins, a fake eyeball, a little toy lizard... puzzled, I looked towards another part of the room. There was a small metal table, not far from where I was, with needles, operating equipment, rubber gloves, disinfectant... and a spool of thread. This was all the more confusing, but I was too tired to question it. I shut my eyes and rested for a short while, but suddenly opened my eyes again after a sudden thought entered my mind. My leg... a little hesitantly, I looked down. My leg was there... but it was different. It was maroon... and there were stitches sown with thread all over it. But it was there, and attached. I tried to move it a little, and found that it worked like it had before. I didn't know what to think, but eventually decided not to. Testing to see if my body would still function, I tried to roll off of my side. At first, it made me feel immensely dizzy, and I had to prop myself upright with my elbow. Quickly, however, the dizziness wore off. I was somewhat suprised to find that I could move just fine, though still a little tired. Unsure of my surroundings, I twisted my head around, getting a full view of the room. My head jerked towards a staircase that led upstairs when I heard footsteps above. it took me a moment to grasp that this must have been the older man's house, and that he had sown me back together. I shuddered. It finally hit me that this was a very strange man.
Though I had never liked humans very much, and I was a little irritated that he had picked me up, I was grateful that I was okay enough to move, to walk. But feeling a little panicked that he was going to come back soon, I decided I should leave, though unsure if I was capable of it. I looked around, searching for a way to escape. There was a window on the west wall, a little high, but within reach nonetheless. I was a little doubtful that I would be able to clear the jump up to the window, but desperate to leave, I accepted the idea. Half jumping, half sliding and stumbling, off of the metal table I had been lain on, I slid onto the floor, my legs splaying out a little as if first learning to walk. Stumbling over to investigate the window, I once more wondered if I would make it out or not, but convinced myself to try. The window was already cracked slightly, so it wasn't difficult to nose it the rest of the way open. As I did, I smelled the scent of rain outside. It was comforting and pleasant - the smells inside smelled strongly of humans and disinfectant. And blood. Trying not to think about it, I slowly backed away from the window, judging the distance from the ground to the window. Swallowing the lump in my throat, my muscles tense, I crouched low to the ground. Leaping, I made it through most of the way, though my hindlegs got caught on the sill. Scrabbling with my hindlegs, I threw the rest of myself through the window, landing on the ground outside. I was greeted by the cold touch of rain against my skin. My hindlegs had been scraped a little, but nonetheless, I was in one piece. I turned to look back through the window, the soft light from inside spilling out onto the street. The old man was standing there, watching me, but he didn't appear suprised, having had heard me leave. I watched him, my ears flicking compulsively. There was a small, content smile on his face, causing wrinkles to appear around the corners of his lips. Turning my head a little, I watched him for a moment. Then, I turned the corner and left.

I walked around the city aimlessly, being sure to stay on the sidewalks, hiding in dark corners and alleys whenever a human would walk past. My leg felt almost like normal, though it did seem a little odd at the same time, but I knew I would get used to it. Nonetheless, I was grateful, though at first I had to convince myself that the human had helped me, as much as the thought irritated me. But I relented, knowing that I wouldn't be walking - or even living - if he hadn't come. I wasn't sure exactly how he had done it, nor why my fur was maroon instead of grey. Sometimes, I wish I had been concious when he fixed my leg so I could at least know what had gone on, though the thought of how painful it would have been makes me wince even now. Maybe I wouldn't have wanted to be awake at the time.
Stopping beside a store window, I examined my reflection to get a better idea of... well, what exactly had been done. Though my reflection appeared somewhat distorted, I was able to see myself clearly enough. Turning my head a little, I peered at the image closer. My leg was as I had seen it, though I hadn't noticed another row of stitches on the underside of my leg. I also saw something I had not seen - there was a patch of maroon on my lower back. I had no idea what had happened to it, and for a long time, the question bothered me. I never did find out why I needed a patch on my back as well, but eventually, I just forgot it. But nothing else was different, except that a look of exhaustion was apparent on my face, and I was drenched with rain, the droplets running down my sides. A little puzzled, I leaned closer to the window, touching the tip of my nose to the cold glass and fogging up the window with my breath. Only then did I really realize how weary I was - not only did I realize it by looking at my bloodshot eyes, but feeling my legs tremble. I pulled away from the window and walked past, staying close to the overhanging roofs to avoid getting wet.
I stopped in an alleyway later that night, and, finding a somewhat decent place in between two large dumpsters, curled up in the small space to sleep. When I finally was able to sleep, I kept waking up various times during the night. Often, my mind would trick me, and I believed I saw some black figure coming towards me. I would remain perfectly still, feeling my whole body shake, until I realized that it was just a shadow. After a time, however, I was able to sleep soundly until dawns soft light appeared in the sky. Awake before most people were, I walked along the sidewalk pointlessly, searching for small scraps of food along the road even when I didn't feel hungry. At one point, as I was walking, I suddenly remembered something that I had not thought about for a long time. Home.

I left the city that morning, relieved to be rid of the intoxicating smells and bustle of people, the cars and blinding lights that flashed at night. I traveled for a long time, through fields and plains most of the time, hunting small rodents that lived there. It seemed that I had not eaten anything like that in a long time, and, exhilarated at the thought of fresh meat, spent much of my time hunting as I went, successfully catching most of the mice and rabbits I came across.
It didn't seem long until I had reached the place that I had grown up in, though I was farther north. But the mountains were the same mountains, the trees the same trees. Slowing to a stop, I took a moment to gaze out - or rather, up - at them towering above me. A chilly breeze brought the scent of pine needles and thousands of other smells towards me, things I hadn't smelt in so long. The mountains seemed like a stranger to me, and yet, so familiar. Almost like an old friend I hadn't seen in years - I wasn't even sure how long I had been in the city and away from the mountains, but to me, it seemed like forever. For a moment, I forgot the mountains entirely, lapsing into more distressing thoughts, remembering my family. My brother, my mother... my father. I remembered the snake bite, and my mother dying beside me, and I felt a sudden heartache that I had felt constantly, ever since my brother had passed away, only growing worse when mother died. Sometimes, it had felt normal, and I forgot about it. Other times, it was all I could feel. Looking back up at the grey clouds that surrounded the jagged, sloping mountain peaks, the feeling slowly started to die away, though I wondered if it would come back like it always had. But for now, it didn't matter anymore. After all, I was home. Standing there and feeling a sudden sense of excitement and happiness come over me, I sprang into a lope and ran the rest of the way, climbing up the slope that took me towards them, towards that place, towards my home.