Wilfred

Playlist

• He Sang of Feeling
• Respite
• It's Raining Somewhere Else
• Fisherman's Horizon
• Lulu's Theme

Name: Wilfred

Name meaning: "will" and "peace"

Nicknames? Wilf

Gender: male

Species and/or specific breed: silver fox

Age: 12 in human years

Birthday: December 21st

Personality: Wilf does not understand how to interact with others. At all. He can't keep a conversation going to save his life. Small talk is infinitely hard for him - what is he supposed to say, and when? And what is the point? - that incredibly often he just says nothing at all, and goes off to his own little corner of the room to watch everyone else have fun. This sometimes means he comes across as a rather rude, unfriendly person, which he isn't, really. Not if you saw the real him. But people can jump to conclusions sometimes, and it's very easy to make conclusions about Wilfred.

Deep down, he worries immensely about what others think about him. That, he supposes, adds to his silence. He's too busy thinking about what to say that by the time he's ready to say it, the conversation has moved somewhere else. Either that, or he only thinks of something to say hours later. When he does talk, he tends to use big words that no one else really understands, so he ends up having to explain himself, which takes a lot of effort on his part that really could be avoided if he just used simpler words in the first place. But it's a habit he's gotten into, and habits can be very hard to stop.

Wilf is, of course, an amazing artist. Years of practice have made his art incredibly realistic, and he loves drawing so much that it's practically all he ever does in his free time. It makes him feel so much calmer when he's stressed, and it's often much, much easier for him to talk to others when he's drawing.

History: No one knows where The Pen came from, not even Wilfred, but all he knows is that it came into his possession quite suddenly on an otherwise ordinary day. An orphan from when he was quite young (well, that or his parents had abandoned him, but he couldn't remember which), Wilf had gotten quite used to being alone in the city and had also developed a nice routine - in the mornings he'd go out on a walk, then come home and draw for a few hours in one of his many sketchbooks, and the rest of the day was spent scavenging for food the humans had thrown out. On one particular day his walk had led him through the park that marked the center of the city. He strolled along, sniffing a particularly fragrant flower, pausing to admire a fountain... but his attention was grabbed by a large, fancy feather pen resting on top of a boulder. Now this is a great find for today! Wilf thought as he strode over to it and picked it up. It was very strange... as he held it, he felt different, somehow. But that really didn't bother him - he was just excited to draw with it once he got home! The rest of his walk was considerably shorter than normal, as he wanted to use the new pen right away.

Back at his hideout, Wilfred opened a sketchbook, took out the pen, and began to draw one of the flowers he'd seen just a short time ago. The pen almost seemed to read his mind - as he drew the stem the ink was green, but as he moved up to the petals the color changed to a cheerful yellow. And once he was finished, his creation came right off the page! Suddenly the exact flower he'd drawn was right there in front of him! There was no way this was happening. Wilf tried again - he sketched a butterfly, and the ink shimmered from color to color as he drew. As soon as he had completed his drawing, it fluttered off the page, just as the flower had done, and glided lazily away.

Obviously, if he had told anyone, they would have called him crazy, so Wilf kept the knowledge of his pen that brought art to reality a secret. Most of his art remained incomplete, so that it wouldn't leave the page and he could show his art to those few who asked. But this was not to last forever.

A year and a day after The Pen came into his possession, Wilfred was shaken awake by a very nervous cat, whose paws were trembling so much and whose eyes were so wide that, instead of being annoyed for being woken before the sun had even risen, he jumped to his paws. "What? What has occurred?" he demanded to know. "Please, Wilf, there's - humans! And they're trying to round up all the stray animals, and can't you please do something to help?" the cat moaned anxiously. Wilfred hesitated. Yes, there was something he'd be able to do to help. He had his magic pen. But he really didn't want anyone to know what it could do... No. He was being selfish. The silver fox hurried to grab his sketchbook and his feather pen, then turned to the cat. "Lead the way. I've got a plan."

This was not entirely true. Yes, Wilf had a plan, but it was fairly incomplete. As he and the cat reached the place where most of the humans were pursuing his fellow strays, he realized he had absolutely no idea what he was going to draw - or how it would help. Still, he opened his sketchbook and feverishly started sketching, ignoring the cat's exclamations of "What are you doing??! How is this helping at all?" He scribbled without thinking, and after just a few seconds a giant, 10-foot spider crawled off the page and towards the humans and animals. It was instant chaos. Humans and animals alike hurried for cover, even though it was clear the spider had no plans of hurting anyone.The only two who didn't flee were Wilfred - in awe at what he'd done - and the cat, who was staring at the feather pen in wonder. "You - what - how?" "Magic pen," Wilf explained simply as he gathered his things and walked away. He could do with a nice nap now that everyone was safe. And he also didn't want to have to answer any questions.

When Wilfred next awoke, it was to a crowd of twenty or thirty animals gathered around. "Oh, dear," he said without thinking. That cat had told everyone about his magic pen, hadn't he? Now wouldn't something horrible happen? As it turned out, life did get rather busy after word that a fox who could create anything was living in their midst. Many people wanted solutions to problems, or just something valuable. Eventually Wilf, tired of all the art requests and the constant animals bothering him day and night (being an introvert made this very hard), told everyone that he'd only be using his pen for those with a dire need, not a frivolous wish, and after this he felt a lot better. Doing things - his favorite thing - to help make the world a better place... it was perfect, and he was going to love every day of it.

Accessories: He found his bowtie in a human rubbish pile when he was very young. It looked rather sad and neglected, so he took it home, cleaned it up, and has been wearing it ever since.

His sketchbooks - he has many of these, and all of them are loved and used often

And, of course, the magic feather pen - his most prized possession which never leaves his side.

Favorite...

Color? navy blue

Season? Winter

Number? 7

Thing to draw? flowers