Tig’s background story
(Idea taken from RedRoseOfDeath :P )

The first few years of Tigger’s life were very painful, he lost his home, family and friends in one fell swoop, and what’s worst he couldn’t remember any of it because he was so young. The only memory he had were the images of flame, reaching the sky and beyond.
He spend most of his youthful years in the back alleys of one of the many city’s he visited, he didn’t care to find out about his parents encase the worst had happened to them, so he moved around, meeting many different people, some friendly, some that would kick him around because they were bored.
He first counted himself as a man when he reacted to the abuse and bit one of the people that attacked him on the leg, getting his first taste of blood and being branding a menace at the same moment. For days dog captures chanced him out of his first home and into he wild, and the next and then the next as his stride became more of a limp.
In the next city he took refuge in a kind-hearted vet had found him and treat his cuts and bruises, rapping his legs in bandages and securing a broken front leg with three belts she had stolen from the uniforms that were at her place of work before shutting him in a dark cage.
The next chance he got he made a sprint for the door, escaping by the hair of his tail into the busy street and then into the forest that surrounds the town. Walking past a large crystal clear lake he gazes at his reflection and is disgusted by what he sees, a black and white, part wolf failure, limping from wounds that had long since healed on his body but are still on his soul.
He gaze shifts from his own to another’s, a black and red wolf that was staring at him, he was first angry and was about to snarl and growl until they ran away but his mind went blank as their eyes met, because on that day, for that moment, even if it lasted for an instant he could feel his wounds heal, and they carry on healing up until this day.