May your survival be LONG.
THE WOLF.
an independent and original portrayal of [theodora moreau] for [the last of us] verse.
#misthios.
❝ Some days I am more wolf than woman, i will not apologise.
carrd template by solarsources
DOSSIER.
basics.
name: theodora moreau
alias: thea, dora
age: early 20s
date of birth: unknown
place of birth: kenora, ontario
last known location: seattle, washington
physical.
height: 5'6
hair color: brown
eye color: brown
notable features: numerous scars
mental.
moral alignment: chaotic good
myers-briggs: ENFP-T
temperament: choleric
allegiance: unknown, known to shift
known skills.
an adept shot with a rifle, and well-trained in hand-to-hand combat. clever and skilful smuggler, with a sharp tongue to match. basic knowledge of field first aid, and a keen skill for foraging, a highly useful ally.
known family.
mother: felicity moreau [DECEASED]
father: robert moreau
brother: oscar moreau [DECEASED]
fedra notes.
knowing links to the insurrection and terrorism in quarantine zones — arrest on sight.
solos.
solo one.
the wounded wolf.
the winds were howling upon the hilltop, the sharp bite of the cold swirling as the wolf pack struggled through the snow. seemingly in a momentary relief from the virus-touched cities, thea couldn’t help but find some joy in this excursion— while there was never an absence of infection, but less was always a nice break.in the far distance, only more snow and mountains could be seen for as far as the eye could see. this certainly wasn’t seattle.“go and scout the hills, jack. go and freeze your ass off, jack. fucking abby, i hope they’re all enjoying the warmth of the lodge.” one of the wolves growled through chattering teeth, clawing at the material of his jacket to hold it tight around his body. a quiet laugh shared between the group would create a small amount of warmth, a few playful nudges and stumbles.with a roll of her eyes, thea pushed through the group back to the lead. her hands cradling the rifle with each step. there was a sense of peace.but peace, as so often in those days, was broken in an instant.
the group could not ignore the growing screams and howls of the horde—— far enough away to not immediately alarm, but close enough to know that they were not as far from danger as they’d wish. nervous looks were exchanged between every wolf, rifle sights rising as frames span to scan the surroundings.“we keep moving, away from the horde— they’ll be fine.” moreau shouted over the howling wind, seeking a nod from each follower.
none were ready for the first shot. heads frantically turning as the body of jack slumped, lifeless, to the snow-covered ground. a red stain spreading across the untouched snow. wild shots came from others, hoping that a random bullet would find the owner of the bullet.but as the second wolf dropped, fear set in.“stop firing!” thea bellowed, smacking at the closest rifle of another wolf. the owner’s fearful eyes narrowing in fury. thea did not know the owner well, except to know that he was a particularly feral one— one who enjoyed the hunt and kill almost as much as her father.the other’s hand rose without warning, giving the small frame of the moreau a sharp shove as his rifle began to wildly fire one more. stumbling in the snow, the first thea felt was the sharp pain in her back as she’d fallen to the ground. her gloved hand instinctively reaching to the air at her abdomen, the uncomfortable touch of the protruding branch.the wolf did not scream as the pain began to set in, only low, pained growls trickled free as she struggled against the branch— hazels watching the chaos of gunfire before them. more shots from an unknown rifle dropping the bodies of her pack to the snow-covered ground, until only two remained.both exchanged a short glance, a look at the injured group leader, and fled with a cacophony of panicked shouts.“shit.” thea groaned. her dark gaze scanning around with a tremble to her lip, whether it was fear or cold, she was not sure. “just get it over with!”the wolf shouted to an unknown stranger. hands had continued to work at the impaled branch— this would make a mess.“no need—” the male’s voice would finally call out, walking into the clearing with rifle draped over his shoulder with the strap. stopping a few steps before her, both pairs of dark eyes caught on the other. “you’re coming with me.”
from the silence within the mansion, the wounded wolf knew that abby had completed her mission. she'd done what she set out to do— thea just wasn't ready for the sight within.there was a fury to abby that reminding her so perfectly of her father. . . of so many within the W.L.F. the hazel's of the moreau stuck upon the battered body of the man, barely recognisable to any who would've known him. yet for thea, who knew from the moment she first saw that battered face, he was recognisable. the woman had never made that link— even in their world, there could've been a hundred men called 'joel'. but this was a 'joel' that she'd known, she'd worked with, she'd smuggled with. as hazels stared, it made her sick to her stomach. the woman doing everything she could to not show the regret and pain upon bloody features. she was no lover of the brutality of this new world, whether she wore the wolf patch or not.“she'll know where to find them... she comes back to jackson with us.”
background.
biography.
thea was born after the outbreak. the family living in a remote corner of the world where the infection wouldn’t touch them. not for many years, anyway — the youngest in a fractured family — a loving mother, a drunk father, and an older brother she’d barely remember. like countless others, the moreau's would not escape the infection’s reach.her brother was the first to fall. at just twelve, the boy turned, breaking through the home with feral, fungal rage. their mother fought to protect her newborn daughter, teeth sinking into her flesh in the struggle. by the time it was over, the family was split down the middle. only thea and her father walked away from the wreckage of their home.they found sanctuary in the chicago qz. fedra brought structure, but it was the fireflies who gave them purpose. her father, aimless and grieving, found cause in the movement. for thea, it was more than purpose — it was an identity.raised among revolutionaries, she grew into the life like it was stitched into her skin. distance from her father gave her room to become something more: a strategist with a sharp eye, a smuggler with a sharper tongue, and a deadly shot with a rifle. by her teens, thea was a committed freedom fighter, trailing marlene’s footsteps across the wasteland of america — all the way to salt lake city.but the light of the fireflies died in that hospital. gunshots echoed through sterile halls. blood soaked purpose.after the fall, thea and her father drifted to the washington liberation front. The w.l.f. remade her, turning a disillusioned rebel into a trained soldier. but within the walls of the wolves, she found unlikely solace — a new kind of family among former fireflies who had lost just as much as she had.it was that bond that led her to abby. whether thea truly cared about the hunt for joel or not, she volunteered to follow, her closest friend, on the hunt. it was a mission that would take her far from the wolves... and even farther from her father.but for the first time, thea wasn’t running from something. she was chasing her own future — wherever that led.