Hamilton

Backstory

Hamilton was the smallest of nine, a fragile armadillosuchus born into a bloodline of brutes and hunters.His elders gifted him a jagged spear made from sliver and other meatals, Hamilton welded it trying to learn to use it but also failing. His kin were powerful, swift, merciless—but he was the runt, frail and forever falling behind, a shadow among predators.

On the day of a great hunt meant to prove their strength, his siblings turned on him. With cruel laughter, they hurled him from a tree, his body crashing down a steep hill before breaking into a lonely ditch. There he lay, trembling, sobbing into the dirt,the only thing with him the spear gifted to him now mocking him sallowing his thoughts as a reminder that he'll never do anyting right in life, the night swallowing his cries. Days passed as hunger gnawed and thirst burned; only despair kept him company. Yet somehow, with torn claws and fading hope, he clawed his way out of the grave that had nearly claimed him.

South America stretched before him—a vast and merciless wilderness. Hamilton wandered it like a ghost, scavenging from the scraps of others, licking bones clean, fighting for scraps too small to satisfy. Some nights he starved, curling into himself with nothing but shame and sorrow to lull him to sleep.

But fate, cruel as it had been, led him to a wandering band of dinos. For the first time, he was not cast aside but given purpose. He learned to swim, to forage, to fight. From scavenger he became a gatherer, then a warrior. Learing to weld the very weapon he used to break and damege due to his inexperience.

Though the scars of betrayal never fade, Hamilton now fights at the side of his chosen family. Yet behind his hardened eyes lingers the truth—he is a survivor not because he was strong, but because the world refused to let him die.