About Tharo

Tharororn appears to be a Tyrannian krawk, but of course, things are not always what they seem. She was born in Old Maraqua, during the time of its ruin. Though her parents were both Maraquan krawks, Tharororn's Tyrannian roots made her unable to live with her underwater family. She was born to breathe air despite her parents' underwater lifestyle, and lived her early days on a small spit of land to the northeast of Mystery Island. Her parents brought food from the ocean for her, but other than that, most of her time was spent alone.

Eventually, Tharororn learned to hunt for food herself, and it became the only entertainment she had on the island. She ate and ate, growing into a very large young krawk. She became bored of eating the same kinds of things every day, and decided one morning that it was time to set out across the ocean to see what was beyond.

She had become a powerful runner, so her legs were strong and could be used for swimming. Her Maraquan heritage had also bestowed upon her a pair of fins for navigating her bulky body around in the water, and she could always ask her parents to help her if she found she couldn't swim very far on her own.

But she was still at a loss.

She could swim, but where would she go? She was puzzled. Nobody she knew had any idea what was beyond the little crop of islands to the east. Her family had never ventured far from their home, and none of them planned to. But Tharororn was driven to find what was out there.

Being as she wasn't much of a thinker, she leaped into the water without much thought and began swimming north. Away from her island, away from Maraqua, away from everything familiar. But she was so heavy and awkward in the water...

She wasn't able to swim very far before fatigue began to take her mind, but she was far enough that she wouldn't be able to make it back if she tried to turn around. So she kept swimming, getting slower and slower as the sun began to set beyond the endless waves. The island she left behind had long since faded over the horizon, and there was no destination in sight.

What a mess...

More than once she slipped beneath the surface, each time thinking it would be the last time. But she kept swimming. She tried to rest, but keeping herself afloat was more difficult than pressing onward_ Instinct told her to keep moving, but her body wouldn't listen. She needed food. She needed rest. She couldn't go on.

She closed her eyes and gave up...

The sun was beating down on her when she finally awoke. The sand stuck to her face and neck as she slowly hefted herself to her feet. She stood on shaky legs and tried to take in her surroundings, but the sun was so bright... she couldn't focus. She caught the scent of something delicious... and followed it blindly, not knowing where she was going, and not really caring.

Her eyes widened as she found the source of the smell... it was a gigantic egg! She rushed forward to feast, but after only a few bites, she heard a voice behind her.

No! You cannot take more than one slice per day!

It was a lupe... a land-dwelling counterpart of the lupes that Tharo had met back home in Maraqua. He was dark green and had a fierce looking pair of tusk like teeth, but his small stature made him a very small threat. Tharororn ignored him and kept eating.

Continued... sometime.

A whoot of his stature was nothing special really. He was quite small indeed... and seemed like the perfect replacement for Tharororn's screal, who had met with a most unfortunate fate. Petpets were getting expensive due to Tharo's monstrous appetite... so when shopping for replacements, smaller meant cheaper, and cheaper was better.

The whoot was indeed quite small.

Bite-size, so to speak.

...and bite-size he was.

But being the strong, brave, and proud little whoot that he was, he couldn't give up his life just because he was bite-size. No, not Caetius. Not a moment after becoming a before-lunch snack for the hungry krawk, his ghostly little spirit rose from the scales of the predator he had fallen victim to.

Tharororn blinked in bewilderment, and tried again and again to chomp down on the strange floating whoot, but her jaws passed right through. You can imagine the traumatizing sight before little Caetius' eyes as the menacing teeth came at him again and again.

They say that wandering spirits are unable to roam too far from the place of their demise. Since the place of his demise is always on the move, Caetius is forever cursed to follow behind the krawk that brought about his end.