Post by desperado on Mar 4, 2006 12:22:03 GMT -5
Name: Desperado
Gender: Masculine
Age: Two years and six months
Appearance: A deep, handsome gray varg. No special markings, save for a small knick on his right ear. His eyes are a placid, pale yellow, which always seem to hold a somber look. He is large, but not bulky with muscular build, however his legs are rather long and his form lean. He had been lucky this winter, finding small critters for him to feast on, and even some left-over kill of a Herla from a pack. So because of this, he is only lean by how he is build, and there is no signs of hunger or malnutrition. His pelt is sleak and shiny, and his muzzle long and proud.
Personality: His name basically states it all. He is nothing more than a loner, not the sort who speaks often to unknown strangers. Some call him the strong, silent type, and often wonder why he holds such sorrow within his gaze. When curious vargs ask him of his past, he shuns them away and leaves, not wishing to say anything as though ashamed. He sometimes steals prey from packlands when hunger calls upon him the most. He is not the kind to pick fights with others, though his spirit is indeed strong. He has no ego whatsoever, and usually thinks down upon himself, though is not completely depressed.
History: Though he wishes not to express it, behind every wolf there is his story.
He was born into a small, unknown pack consisting mainly of family members such as his siblings, father, mother, and his aunt. At one point, his grandparents as well lived with them, until they died when he was nearly weaned. He remembers nothing about them, but his mother had once told him he looks exactly like his grandfather.
He had one sister and two brothers. Suprisingly, though gray is a colour most common to the gray wolf species, he was the only gray of the cubs. His sister, Picca, was a pure white wolf with a black patch over her eye, and his brothers Kamel and Stikqu were a deep, chocolate brown. While he was close with his brothers, he was even closer to his sister. He adored her, and because she talked with a slight lisp and walked awkwardly on a limp, he became something like her protector. However, one day, when the cubs were merely one year of age, and beginning to grow into fine young Vargs, something terrible had happened. Desperado had left his sister by the river so he could try out hunting for himself, and with luck found a grazing buck. Even though he was a well-trained hunter, he had forgotten a keen rule in hunting: Never prey on a healthy buck. However, he had lept out from his hiding spot and begun to chase the buck.
It swung its large antlers powerfully, causing the small knick on his ear, and began to run towards the river. Desperado, always liking a good chase, began to go after it. Unfortunately, it was the same place where Picca was located. She was wading in the river, and out of the braken had come this large buck, swinging his head. She tried to run, but the limp prevented her from doing so, and the powerful creature rammed directly into the she-wolf, towards a deeper part in the river where only the most skillfull of swimmers dare to go. The buck continued to go onward, but the brother stopped to watch in horror as his sister was swept away by the current. He followed her, calling out her name every so often, trying all he could do to get her out. Suddenly, the wolf's head disappears under the water and...never comes up.
Frightened, Desperado tried to go in after her, swimming with the current to follow the drowning body, but everytime he gets close, the water carries her down faster, and soon the limp body washed ashore the land. His dear sister had died the most tragic death a Varg could have...she drowned.
Frightened, Desperado fled from the area after many attempts to rekindle the dying ember of life, but it became apparent that it was completely snuffed out. He swears that sometimes he hears her deperate cries for help in the night, and sees the wandering spirit of Picca that could never rest. All he knows is, he has to try and escape the past, for it was his fault that his sister is dead...
[/CENTER]Gender: Masculine
Age: Two years and six months
Appearance: A deep, handsome gray varg. No special markings, save for a small knick on his right ear. His eyes are a placid, pale yellow, which always seem to hold a somber look. He is large, but not bulky with muscular build, however his legs are rather long and his form lean. He had been lucky this winter, finding small critters for him to feast on, and even some left-over kill of a Herla from a pack. So because of this, he is only lean by how he is build, and there is no signs of hunger or malnutrition. His pelt is sleak and shiny, and his muzzle long and proud.
Personality: His name basically states it all. He is nothing more than a loner, not the sort who speaks often to unknown strangers. Some call him the strong, silent type, and often wonder why he holds such sorrow within his gaze. When curious vargs ask him of his past, he shuns them away and leaves, not wishing to say anything as though ashamed. He sometimes steals prey from packlands when hunger calls upon him the most. He is not the kind to pick fights with others, though his spirit is indeed strong. He has no ego whatsoever, and usually thinks down upon himself, though is not completely depressed.
History: Though he wishes not to express it, behind every wolf there is his story.
He was born into a small, unknown pack consisting mainly of family members such as his siblings, father, mother, and his aunt. At one point, his grandparents as well lived with them, until they died when he was nearly weaned. He remembers nothing about them, but his mother had once told him he looks exactly like his grandfather.
He had one sister and two brothers. Suprisingly, though gray is a colour most common to the gray wolf species, he was the only gray of the cubs. His sister, Picca, was a pure white wolf with a black patch over her eye, and his brothers Kamel and Stikqu were a deep, chocolate brown. While he was close with his brothers, he was even closer to his sister. He adored her, and because she talked with a slight lisp and walked awkwardly on a limp, he became something like her protector. However, one day, when the cubs were merely one year of age, and beginning to grow into fine young Vargs, something terrible had happened. Desperado had left his sister by the river so he could try out hunting for himself, and with luck found a grazing buck. Even though he was a well-trained hunter, he had forgotten a keen rule in hunting: Never prey on a healthy buck. However, he had lept out from his hiding spot and begun to chase the buck.
It swung its large antlers powerfully, causing the small knick on his ear, and began to run towards the river. Desperado, always liking a good chase, began to go after it. Unfortunately, it was the same place where Picca was located. She was wading in the river, and out of the braken had come this large buck, swinging his head. She tried to run, but the limp prevented her from doing so, and the powerful creature rammed directly into the she-wolf, towards a deeper part in the river where only the most skillfull of swimmers dare to go. The buck continued to go onward, but the brother stopped to watch in horror as his sister was swept away by the current. He followed her, calling out her name every so often, trying all he could do to get her out. Suddenly, the wolf's head disappears under the water and...never comes up.
Frightened, Desperado tried to go in after her, swimming with the current to follow the drowning body, but everytime he gets close, the water carries her down faster, and soon the limp body washed ashore the land. His dear sister had died the most tragic death a Varg could have...she drowned.
Frightened, Desperado fled from the area after many attempts to rekindle the dying ember of life, but it became apparent that it was completely snuffed out. He swears that sometimes he hears her deperate cries for help in the night, and sees the wandering spirit of Picca that could never rest. All he knows is, he has to try and escape the past, for it was his fault that his sister is dead...