Fractured

Pankaja, or more commonly known as Fractured, was born like any other pup. Looking normal, and handsome as any pup would be by very proud parents. However, that didn't last for long at all. Realizing that... something was wrong, though they couldn't know right away.  Their tiny pup was often still... uncharacteristically so. And whenever it did move, it cried in pain. The earliest thing they realized was the whiteness when it opened it's eyes, shocked to realize their pup was blind, but loving him no less, doing what they could to teach him through feel, through touch. But something was still wrong. As he grew, he still cried in pain. His skin began to grow taunt in a way that worried them... 

Then one day they saw him went to check on him and found the cloth he laid upon stained with blood. Both parents gasping in shock and horror as they investigated what had happened... and then they found it. The blood, the torn skin, the bone growing wrong and protruding from his back. Their poor beloved pup was suffering and in pain, and they had no idea what to do. Continue raising him, or... 

Would it have been better to end his suffering? 

They opted to keep him regardless. Doing all they could to try and help with whatever herbs or anything they could find to try and ease their pups pain, even as more and more bones grew and protruded and tore through the skin. Every day his parents feared infection. Death. Every day they worried about how he would make it on his Rite, when every movement he made was pain, was agony. When he couldn't see what was coming after him or where he was going. 

 But they needn't have worried. As he grew, his cries of pain became quiet. The cried didn't help any, after all, and seemed only an annoyance to others. With that, the silence became loud. His senses became strong, hearing further, smelling better. He learned to navigate the world more carefully. 

Then he left for hi Rite. A spear and a pack filled with herbs. And he survived. Despite his pain, his suffering, his agony, he fought, he scrounged, and survived. Surviving by fishing, hunting only when desperate, and his strong sense of smell helping him find fruits and herbs and even roots that he could eat. Despite his pain, he was strong, powerful. 

He didn't stay out on his Rite for long. Hearing about and finding his way to a clan that welcomed all manner of oddities. Welcomers of mutants and freaks and not fearful of differences. And so he made his way. Meeting Minerva and setting down roots. 

Most days he can be found sitting outside of his little, humble home. Barely moving much at all save when danger comes knocking. Then he fights formidably before going back to his home, Minerva, or even pups coming to slather him with healing and numbing herbs. 

"~This guy's bones grow in painful and excessive ways pushing through the skin at points~"