Jorun Vaski

This is my character that I created for a homebrew D&D game me and a couple friends are going to have soon.

Race: Raesokeran Vulpis (Red Fox)
Gender: Male
Age: 16 (Vulpis mature at 8 and live up to 40 years)
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 67lbs

Class: Ranger
Background: Outlander

Backstory:
I was raised by just my father. My mother died during labour, I was lucky to survive.

My father taught me how to survive in the wilds. I know how to find water, food, and shelter, and to speak the languages he knew. He would randomly change language every couple days and would not speak to me unless I did the same. He also taught me how to read and write, and do basic mathematics. He made a point of teaching me about money, but I've never used it.
I even learnt how to make my own soap, which I revere and cherrish, as I like to keep my body clean. I hate the feeling of built up dirt on my fur and skin, or the way I start to smell after a few days without bathing.

We had a small log cabin, big enough for two adults. It was always cozy, and I remember nights sitting by the fireplace, wrapped in furs, chewing on roasted meats and drinking water mixed with various berries while my father would silently carve wooden tools at the table. He was really good at woodworking. What little money he had was from selling his crafts to passers by who needed something.

I don't remember ever going to a town when I was a kit, and I've never been to one as an adult. I don't even know what it would look like.
I've heard they're made up of a few houses, and cities have even more.
The thought of a place with so many people frightens me. I've seen humans on occasion, and they've chased me before. I was young then, and I was so scared when it happened.
I ran as far and fast as my legs could carry me and hid in a small rock crevice for hours until my father found me and led me home. He told me some people can be bad, but most of them are good. I didn't believe him, and I've never talked to people to find out for myself.

My father was alive until recently when he fell ill and all the medicinal herbs I found did nothing to make him better. He would tell me he feels healthier, but I knew he was only trying to put me at ease. When he finally passed, I felt sadness beyond anything I could have imagined. 
The fur on my face was soaked with tears as I dug a grave and covered the body with soil and rocks.

I went whole days without eating, and I would cry myself to sleep. It went on for weeks, or at least, I am not sure. I lost track of time.
One night I dreamt my father comforting me in a way that he never would. He hugged me for the first time in my life.
When I awoke the next day I realised that he would not want to see his son starve to death over grief. That embrace from beyond death gave me hope, and made me realise that he was still out there, out of reach, but close enough to not be gone entirely. Perhaps even my mother is there, maybe they are together.

Now I am determined to leave my homeland. Go further than I have ever gone before. There is nothing left for me here. Nothing that I haven't lost.
I know I am not leaving my parents behind. I know they will be with me, the dream was proof that they could go beyond their graves.