Chakide's birthplace was tattered and ruined, the neat dens seemingly belonging to no one. No one but his pack. The scent of the Rangi dog pack was fresh enough, streaming away from the tree root dens. Chakide's appearance would not come unnoticed, and the lead dogs would not recognize his scent anymore.

Disappeared, maybe even dead to them, was Chakide. He was the beloved, lost pup to his mother...but a tattered and ragged theif to all other. Chikade was the savanna weasel. The wild dog didn't know why he was their, but he was. Sniffing the air and letting life go by.

Chakide was overall bored, and needed something to jump on, attack, bark at...anything.