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Darkseeker
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As it stands, we have two spots left.
1337M/F and 1409F |
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Darkseeker
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Name: Tihomir "Quiet" Nickname: Tiho Age: 4 Years Gender: Male ID Number: Wolf 1303M Appearance: [Credit for All 3 goes to Lakela] Tihomir is a canid of a dark hue, fur onyx, particularly around his face and legs. Patterns of dark grey-brown line his back and the side of his thick-furred neck, and a splash of white marks his chest. He uses this dark complexion to hide away, to blend in with the shadows and disappear from the view of a wandering eye. He prefers it that way, disappearing and remaining unbothered. Often, if he doesn't want you to see him or hear him, you simply won't, and he'll disappear from all senses other than smell. The male is not big and burly, rather, he's a creature built for speed and agility, with lean muscle over his body. He stands at 25 inches at the shoulder, although his thick fur may make him appear just a little taller, and he weighs 90 pounds at the most. He's not a large creature by any means, nor is he a tank or overly strong. His defense mechanisms include his words, his ability to outrun most things that would chase him and potentially allies. His eyes are a bright, pale, potentially even harsh yellow color, standing out against his dark face, while his scent is like the smell of wet grass, of the dew that hangs there, of the smell the earth makes when it's just rained. He smells like the quiet places in the world, where peace and serenity can claim those that wish to be claimed. Personality: Tihomir is many things, some that he presents, others that he does not. He is smart, thoughts racing and senses observant. He lacks brute strength that many around him possess, and his brain has made up for it with intelligence. His self-preservation is high, his instincts tell him to look out for himself and himself alone, and he learned a while ago to trust his instincts when they scream at him. He would fight against them for very few people, only those closest to him. He runs more than he fights, retreats from battles that he knows he can't win rather than put up a useless fight. Mostly, he's non-confrontational, avoiding altercations when possible, but when he picks a fight, he's stubborn, and he sticks by it. He's generally calm, potentially infuriatingly, and collected, his mind always ten steps ahead of his body, so to see him angry, pissed off, otherwise upset or genuinely fighting someone is a rare occurance for any to witness. Tihomir is slow to warm up to someone, slower to consider them a friend, and slower still to trust them. Just because he's close to you, or friendly to you, or your friend doesn't mean he trusts you. He trusts very few people in his life, and he would, without a doubt, override his instincts and lay down his life for them if he did. Now, Tiho isn't mean. He isn't aggressive, he isn't cruel, but he isn't friendly to everyone, either. He's withdrawn, reserved, careful. He's cautious of everyone until they've proven to him that he doesn't have to be, and even then, there's every chance of them falling back into that "dangerous" category in his mind. He could even be called cold at times, but not mean. He won't allow himself or those he cares for to suffer for someone he couldn't give a fuck about, but he won't leave them to suffer a horrible fate either. Crush: None, perhaps open. Mate: None. Kin: Name | 1218F | Mother Miervaldis | 1219M | Father Jade | 1376F | Half-Sister/Cousin Name | 1249F | Aunt Affiliations: Open For Discussion Tiercel | 1321 | Beloved "Brother" Tiercel is someone that Tiho views as more of a brother than his own family, at times, and he knows that it is much the same for Tiercel for him. He confides in his unborn brother, he trusts him more than he trusts any others. He helped Tiercel when he first joined the pack, taught him how to keep his head down, and they'd been bonded since. Name | 1218F | Mother [Insert Text] Miervaldis | 1219M | Father [Insert Text] Jade | 1376F | Half-Sister/Cousin [Insert Text] Name | 1249F | Aunt [Insert Text] Edited at November 19, 2022 07:28 AM by Polly |
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Lightbringer
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Name: Maynard Age: 4 Gender: Male ID Number: 1337 Appearance: 90 pounds| 29 inches tall| 5.8 feet long Gray, gray as the haze that falls on a sleepy morning day. Cream, cream as a dying white rose’s last petal. Clay, clay an orange that stains even the purest of coats. These are the qualities that make up Maynard. His pelt is a dark, sooty gray mingled in with char black with snow combed through his thick back fur. Along his shoulders are dark lines painted evenly along both sides. Like arrows, they swoop down and point towards his fluffy cream chest. The roots of these off-white hairs are not like waterlilies at all, rather instead, a gentle stain of orange. It was as if someone had rubbed red clay on them ever the slightest just to get this coloration, this strange fading. Yes, for his neck fur is a mottled mixture of the previously mentioned winter-stricken remanences of a past fire. This stain of clay eases the harsh violence of a choked fire to the softness of the cream river of foam that patches his throat and chest. However, it runs dry by the time it touches the stomach. The stomach is an empty land, but not a dry, despairing desert. No patches or mottling interrupt this portion of the wolf. It is a light golden field of hay, ready to be harvest. It is the brushy head of meadow grass that tickles ones legs. Speaking of which, the legs of the creature are neglected such beauty and magnificence of a farmer’s crop at sundown. Instead, they are blemished by clay-water as if someone dipped a sponge in the filthy, putrid, muddy soup and wiped it down the front of his legs—leaving some streaks of gray asphalt to drip down each fore, fading occasionally only to be brought up again. Like a snake in the grass, it passes. However, the inside of his legs are clean. As if in a secret cavern, four foamy waterfalls flow and bubble at the bottom. They are not ivory, but off-white, but they seem pure comparing to the outside limbs of the wolf. Fortunately, even ugly clay-stains can be overcome by clean water, as the paws take after the underside—cream. This cream, of course, isn’t as white as the original river’s but it is enough to name a victor. The back leads down to the brushy tail. On the outside it echoes the back's dead, snowy campfire with the tip being a charred log. However, on the inside it is not so lovely. The clay mars the wagger and there is no stream to wash it out. Behind his ears are bits of gravel mixed with the same, ever-haunting clay-water. This time, the sponging is done more fiercely and one can see it on the edges of the animal’s ears. Luckily, there is smoke rising from within the drums. Aye, the ear-fur inside is a fluffy light gray that matches the soot in the wolf’s coat. On the beast’s noble brow are grizzled arrangements of river pebbles, each gray. However, they are spread thin and one could peer closely and sight the clay earth beneath. These stones pour down around and just under the eyes. Ah, yes, the eyes are murky as if God decided to swirl all the animal’s colors together on his palette to paint the eyes. Between the two spotters, and just before the snout’s bridge, are two extremely lightly dabbed bits of white. The Artist must’ve dipped his brush into a cloudy mixture of alabaster-white water to create such a vague—but still standing—detail. Now, on the bridge of the snout, rolled down almost evenly like a royal’s carpet, is more red-clay. On the center of it is a slight graying like the very hair-tips were painted ash. Now, for the very bottom of the wolf’s face are two ranges of uneven mountains of cream that peak up every once-and-a-while on his cheeks and muzzle. They would connect if it weren’t for his coal nose and the warm gray that surrounds his mouth. But from these alps fall glaciers and from these glaciers is the river that pours down his chest where it reappears on the backside of all four legs to finally splash down into the paws. Personality: Dramatic|Manipulative|Nice|Ambitious|Dreamer|Storyteller|Haughty|Distant|Prideful|Intelligent|Lonely|Fears to be Unloved|Selfish As a pup, Maynard was quite the entertainer, always telling stories that he had daydreamed up. That was Maynard, always the dreamer. Well, dreamers have ambitions. He was born second and lived most of his young life being second. He was the second favorite, the second best, the second to be acknowledged. What made them so much more special than him? He didn’t know; didn’t ask. It was clear that no matter what, he would always follow in behind another. For a while, he contemplated leaving the pack, if he wasn’t going to be appreciated, why stay? However, this changed after his home pack divided into two packs, which was a harsh separation for several wolves. Plenty of hate; plenty of fear. Not a good time to live in, especially alone when borders were constantly changing. So he stayed with a pack, and was actually rising in ranks and the alpha’s favor. However, his hard work and flattery served meaningless as he was taken by humans and relocated in Yellowstone. He would now have to start all over. He is dramatic, a characteristic that he can’t seem to loose, no matter what false persona he devises. They’re all dramatic. Oh woe, for it is raining! Blast the sun for glinting into his eyes! Alackaday, the prey was lost! He cannot help but seem a bit extreme, after all, it does tell better stories. Of course, he doesn’t do this for when he’s explaining one of his own faults. This he always under-exaggerates for obvious reasons. In the past, he had tried to create a false persona that he was unintelligent and found that it got him nowhere in the ranks. All it did was make him feel stupid when others would explain things in “baby terms” for him. Learning this lesson, he has decided to take on the role of being an intelligent, useful wolf who serves others and does things out of the kindness of his heart. After all, wouldn’t want a generous leader? Appealing to the masses is one of the many steps of usurping a pack—that and confidence. Of course, you can’t just stop there, popularity is a fleeting ordeal, changing like the fashion of a hat. One must also instill dominance and command; have the ability to be carefree but also stern. He’s nice, too. Now, ‘nice’ and ‘kind’ are two separate things. Kindness is being good-hearted and generous. Niceness is just acting polite and pleasant. Whenever you see him acting out of compassion, he always has some twisted motive for it. While maintaining his benevolent and helpful portrayal, he does try to stay distant. He can’t let anyone know him, at least not any of these new wolves. Of course, 1342M/F, someone who he considers as his minion, knows him and his true intentions. However, they’ll probably pick up right where they left off—scheming together for prestige. While he is, of course, far superior in intellect than them, he still wonders how much they actually catch onto his lies…. He knows he has to be careful not to get caught in his own trap, and tries to think fully ahead, always plotting something. Currently his goal is to survive and be accepted by the other wolves. He must gain their trust as a hardworking, loyal wolf who wants the best for the pack and has the skills to get there. Combining both packs will have to wait for later. It’s rare for someone to fully know him, and he hopes that no one will. This, though, makes for a lonely life. Though he might not act it, he has his doubts. Every relationship he has is built on a lie, and he doesn’t know how long it’ll hold. Sometimes it feels like he’s balancing on a ball while holding a thousand pine cones on his back and must not let on drop or else he’ll fail. After all, failure in this sense could mean banishment or death. He knows that he’ll have to always have a friendly relationship with 1342M/F, because they’d be his ticket back if he is banished. However, if he’s supposed to die, he’s bringing them down with him. Misery loves company, especially to the death. He does have fears that someone will reveal his true ambitions and he’ll be undone, but he also fears to be friendless, to be unloveable. Perhaps that’s why he puts on this persona…nah. True, he wants love but he wants power more. This act is nothing more than just a tool to get him to the top. Once he’s up there, there’s no telling what he’ll do. Crush: Perhaps, maybe, no! Never, never bow down to such weaknesses! (Aka Open) Mate: None Kin: Open Affiliations: WIP |
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Darkseeker
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All spots have now been reserved, including the addition of Wolf 1342 reserved for Mother since we ended up one wolf short.
If it's possible, I'd like for the reservations to all be completed over the next few days. If nothing else have at least a rough outline of them up by then. I'll probably start a discussion soon. |
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Darkseeker
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Neutral
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WIP Name: Age: 9 Years Old Gender: Female ID Number: 1218 Appearance Personality Crush Mate Kin Affiliations |
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Darkseeker
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Name: Evora (Eve) Age: 4 Gender: Female ID Number: 1342F Appearance Credits for all images go to skyfever on DA. This female is, frankly, massive. Eve's shoulders rest at 33 inches and she weighs in at nearly 160 pounds. Despite being a female, she certainly has all the qualifications for brute force. Evora's body is well-muscled and set in such a way as to provide her with impeccable strength and endurance. Her speed and agility are hindered by her size, but she is not in a deep deficit of such things. Her thick coat has a deep black base coloration. Slate and silver hairs create a rippling appearance and lighten him in some places. Her neck, shoulders, and hind ventral are most decorated with this color mixture. Her elbows and along the inside of his shoulder blades are also significantly lighter. A few light gray patches reside on her flanks, elbows, tail, and back legs. Eve's face is a shiny black; how light it appears depends on the sun's strength. Her coat, overall, has an almost liquid-like appearance to it. Evora's eyes are a pale yellow. They almost appear gray, though the slight hint of gold offsets that notion. Her stare is intense, unwavering, and cold. While she does not make an effort to really hide her emotions, her relaxed face often appears as though she is much more mysterious than she is intending to be. Combined with her foreboding coloration and large stature, this female is quite intimidating to those who don't know her-- and even some who do. Her walk is a powerful, languid stride. There is no uncertainty to this female; she has a steady, eerily calm way about her. Her low tone is composed and collected, even in the most heated of situations. Personality 
Eve has a cold stoicism to her. As her appearance suggests, she is a very capable individual, and not just in physical strength. Her mental prowess is just as great; this wolf is extremely intelligent and strategy-driven. She is a warrior through and through; Her plans are always centered around the goal of maintaining Maynard's wellbeing and success. The means by which that occurs is completely in the air. She can play fair, or she can fight dirty. Eve is loyal to a pack as a whole. Certain wolves hold more respect or admiration than others, but she would never cause harm to any of them from a place of malice. Unless, of course, they were traitors or otherwise unworthy of any wolf's respect. Eve has no problems with bloodshed. She's killed before and she will kill again, and perhaps one day she herself will be killed. It is simply the way of life. Even during times of peace and overall relaxation, this female is calculating. She is not always thinking up plans for battle or hunts; occasionally, she thinks of more normal things as well, such as trying to figure out another wolf's mind or predicting the weather. She can be a fairly easygoing creature, though she is never one to be stepped upon. Evora will not hide her dislike for a wolf, no matter their rank, especially if they treat all those below them as wretches. She is patient in some ways and short in others. When dealing with pups, executing strategies, and hunting or fighting, she has all the time in the world to watch, respond, and perform perfectly. However, when it comes to fellow adult wolves, whining, blatantly snide comments, or picking fights, this female becomes the "you started it and I will finish it" figure. And she will act on her words, usually to the hurt ego of the other parties. She does not share her feelings or thoughts outside of working. Even those who consider themselves to be closest to her have but a small glimpse into her emotions, her desires. She has a strong set of morals and does not deviate from them; Eve can be described as quite charismatic, though she is no respecter of rank alone. Lineage means nothing to her, and anyone who banks on their heritage for sway in anything disgusts her. Evora does not tolerate obnoxiousness, whining, laziness, lying, or anything else of the sort. She is a rule follower. She can be fairly snarky when annoyed or agitated. Eve is mature, though, and she almost always acts as such. She will become playful around pups and perhaps share a joke or two with others her age, but she is mostly just a wisened wolf with leadership capabilities. Crush: 1337M (Maynard) Mate: She is under the impression it will be Maynard Kin None? Affiliations Maynard -- This wolf is the only one that she is gullible for. She will believe almost anything he says, and she would lay down her life for him. She is twitterpated. WIP |
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Neutral
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Name: Leika Age: 2 years & just over a month Gender: Female ID Number: 1409 Appearance: [Picture to be added?] Standing at 28 inches tall and on the lighter end of the scale at around 80lbs, Leika is about average height and weight for her age. While she is just reaching full maturity, she has plenty of retained puppy energy filling her lean muscles - but there's still room for growth. She is built for speed, her legs and tail long and ideal for an occasional sprint. With wide paws and a nose for anything interesting, she's certainly one suited for a range of unusual situations. Her fur is moderately dense - thick enough to keep her mostly warm in the winter but light enough that she can comfortably lounge around in the occasional bright midday sun. It is darkest at her back, head and upper chest - an ashy blackish brown. Her lower chest and legs are a snowy grey-white, with her underbelly and jaw a similar colouring. The middle areas as well as sections on her nose bridge and the bases of her ears are a reddish ginger. Her eyes are a similar shade - a subtle brown-orange always watching from her sweet looking face. Her poise is rather unintimidating for a wolf, with her soft expression synonymous for her easygoing personality, at least around less dominant wolves. However as equally often as she wanders around without much purpose, she is hard at work fulfiling whatever she needs. Her demeanour has a quick switch into a determined, almost almost agressive in stature, she wolf. Nothing can get in the way of her steely glare and her characteristic ambition - with her carrying herself with her head high. Personality: On surface level Leika appears a young and energetic she-wolf with a thirst for adventure and exploration. From nose to tail-tip, she is the epitome of youthful spirit and excitement - despite hints of her ever-so-sowly coming to grips with the true reality. Retaining a playful curiosity for anything that wanders by, you might guess she has a rather fickle attitude towards those she actually knows. While this is somewhat true - with her friendly yet mistrustful first impression of almost all she meets, Leika has ended up with very few she ends up holding close. Those lucky few she trusts to a rediculous standard, taking their word as the full truth no matter what anyone else says. Her outgoing nature does allow her to form quick bonds and she has a tendency to throw herself headfirst into relationships that any wiser wolf would step back from. Wistful and worringly naïve, she more often than not puts her deep and overwhelming trust on the wrong wolves. A little deeper down though, there's hints of a more level-headed personality. On hunts and patrols, she displays a more mature side. With her keen eyes and determined nature improving her abilities as she faces new situations, these wiser thoughts do break through the surface. Sometimes. Her desire not only to survive but to thrive helps her keep her paws on the ground and her nose facing in the right direction. Her ambition is seemingly innocent enough, like a circling raven above a carcass - however it simply waits for a perfect moment to claim what's not theirs. Further down still, her true personality lies - patiently waiting for it's place to strike. Her harsh words do not come out often, but when they do they sting like a bite wound. She doesn't hesitate to resort to applying agressive pressure on anyone she seems unworthy of her or her chosen few's time, and will not stop if they begin to crumble. If it has come to a point of which she needs to take this kind of action - well, then it's come to a point where there's no reason to back out. Once she begins there's not much stopping her, and in a way the whole ordeal is almost... gratifying. Crush: Adler [1322M] : words Mate: None Kin: N/a Affiliations: Adler [1322M] : words Open |
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Fall 
Night Weather: 
Hurricane Moon: 
