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Post by Twist! on Jun 30, 2009 22:25:08 GMT -8
Name; Holly
Age; Two years
Gender; Female
Breed; Mexican
Desired Pack; Ebire
Appearance:
The first thing you notice about Holly is that she is on the smaller side of her breed. She is about three-fourths the size of a regular Mexican wolf. Next, you will notice that she is quite pretty. Her undercoat is tan, while silver and black splotches cover her back. Running through the fur along her sides are hints of red and white, and toward her flanks the fur is much darker. Both forelegs are tan, each having a feather-shaped dark marking in the middle. Holly's head is mostly silver and tan, with much darker patches here and there. Her muzzle and the area surrounding her soft yellow eyes are tan. The end of her bushy tail is ringed in red, with the tip being pitch black.
Personality:
Very contradicting to who her parents were, Holly is a gentle soul. She tries to see the positive side of things, the good in everyone. She is very open-minded and optimistic. Holly can tell when something is bothering someone else, and tends to be very understanding of others. Though some see her has a foolish weakling, it doesn't bother her much. She knows that she is quite capable of defending herself when attacked, can hunt for herself and her pack, and is loyal. Though she is young, she sometimes seems wiser than those her age. At times, however, Holly takes on a hardened persona, becoming stubborn and outspoken. Overall, she has a good heart in the right place, along with a few loose ends.
History: -will be filled in-
RP example;
How could it be, in this forest, this country, that there was one particular character who was so depressingly happy about his life? While his pack, every other pack, raged war with each other. While the storms rolled in and the fires blazed, while darkness slowly took over everything, filling bones with a chill for eternity. In his mind, it so seemed, none of this was out of the ordinary. So packs fought, wolves died, and everyday there was the chance that he would be next. His parents had died, he was able to overcome the sadness. Perhaps it the just the reasons he had for living that made him happy. There was his pack, which he devoted, owed his life to. To them, to Rhoen. He had friends, he had a purpose.
Nixon was not your average wolf living amongst the elemental's. Rather, he was bright young guy that understand the way things were and didn't care if they changed or not. He was happy with his place within his pack, happy with whatever was going on. He was not hungry for revenge or power, simply living life. Happy he was living. And you may think him weak for not being a cement structure, for having flaws in his attitude, whatever it may be to you. Yet he was not, and prided himself in being one of the only ones out there that got along without those horrible traits.
What a lovely evening it was! Home was such a beautiful place to be during the sunset, as it turned the water and the mountains orange. The sunlight bounced of trees, turning them blood-red and yellow. It was always the most peaceful time of day for Nixon. And now here he was, laying comfortably by the pack's water source, hidden by the trees. His Mexican features were faint as he lay motionless, staring out across the canvass. Every now and then, the very tip of his colorful tail would flicker. If you weren't paying much attention, it seemed as if he were in a deep sleep for the night.
It was so silent now, no one but our friend there. Letting his eyes close slowly, his mind began to wander, as it usually did when he refused sleep. First it touched his beautiful leader, Rhoen. She was fair, usually. I good-heart-ed sort. He knew it was there within her. Then to his other pack members. Nixon was not stupid, he knew that his pack was not the strongest with numbers, but he knew it was growing. They were growing. With a contempt sigh, he settled his head on his paws, waiting for someone to wonder upon him.
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