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 Boo
05:40:41 Chrissy
should i change to female or keep male? -WP Click-
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05:34:57 Very Wisdom ✨
The one time I breed a chimera I can't keep it >.>
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I have 30 character points to give away.next person to comment one of their wolves and which stat gets it
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Trying to decide if I should sit up and give a my new boy art or if I should just read xD
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-WP Click-
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Act 2 of Arcane Season 2 did /not/ need to hit this hard omg.

I don't think I can wait a week for the last act ;^;
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naw my personal laptop gave me a heart attack XD I decided to run and advanced diagnostic test and it started beeping really loud

its almost 3 in the morning XD
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-WP Click-
^ payment
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A mod*
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01:12:13 anti gen ai
You could ask a DM, but other wise there is not much we can do beyond an honor system
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01:11:25 anti gen ai
Didnt Eve recommend for artists to do payment AFTER turning in the art. Or at least she said that to the Horse Eden Game. Its a weird suggestion to not pay upfront, but I think she said that to avoid that issue
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Especially if it was a very high amount
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They might considering you paid for art. Just dm a mod. It can't hurt to ask
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Fuck. Thankyou mal
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damn, i'm sorry. that's pretty shitty.
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On a raffle trying to get a firefly dye:(

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Forums > Roleplay > Semi-Literate
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The Art Of War | Wolf RP | Open!October 30, 2021 03:36 PM


Freedom

Neutral
 
Posts: 1417
#2648412
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Conrad // Male // None // Packless (Thisam) // Mentions: Keena, Neziton, Deyanira (ind)

Keena was as practical and put-together as Conrad about the whole thing, as he had expected. It wasn’t as if they’d never run into problems like this before. They no longer had enough wolves to back them up to be able to simply chase a lone wolf off. They had to be clever about it, which fortunately was no difficult task for them. Conrad prescribed to the idea that logic could solve any problem set before him, given enough time. His general goal was to cut down on that time. But as he moved back, trying to lure the wolf out, the wolf’s reaction was the exact opposite of what he had expected. He had thought it might run, or perhaps come bearing down on him with teeth flashing. But instead, they decided to go with an entirely different tact. Con, of course, was unshaken. Such a small thing couldn’t confuse or disturb him quite yet. It was a small hiccup in the plan, but as far as Con could see, there were only two reasons this wolf could be acting in a friendly way: either he knew this was Con’s territory and wanted to lure him out in the open to attack him, or he was genuinely trying to make friends. Either way, Conrad wanted nothing to do with it. But if this was the game they were playing, fine. Con would play along. He shifted his expression from nervous to quizzical, and from quizzical to slightly playful. He pranced back again, but this time it was more of an invitation than a retreat. If the wolf had wanted to lure him out, they’d have to try another way, and he’d keep matching them. If they were really wanting to play, they would come after him and he could still lead them on a wild goose chase.

The wolf was already approaching him, barking like a pup. Now, Con’s pack had never been kind to wolves who weren’t quite all there. If their parents didn’t abandon them early out of shame, the alpha had them banished as soon as they proved they couldn’t be useful to the pack. So Con hadn’t seen too many wolves like this one. He had certainly never seen a wolf as friendly as this one unless it was a loner about to meet an untimely demise. If he had, he might have known how to deal with it. But right now all he wanted was for this wolf to leave, one way or another. One wolf was a lot like another when Con knew the only wolves he would be sticking with for the rest of his life were right here. Con knew other loners who had started their own ragtag packs of sorts, welcoming any loner who wanted in. But they rarely lasted long. They were undisciplined and few of the wolves had any actual loyalty, so the packs fell apart quickly. Con was determined not to let that happen to his own little pack.

Come on, Con thought as he moved further back, wagging his tail slightly. He hated the feeling of wagging his tail around any wolf he didn’t know, but it was a small price to pay to get rid of this intruder. Con could only hope Deyanira didn’t walk in in the middle of this and somehow misinterpret what was going on. Con wasn’t going to go as far as barking or frolicking around - yet - but his fearful expression had disappeared, replaced by a more friendly and amiable one. Come on, chase me, Con though, waiting for the wolf to get closer. Though he tried to seem friendly, he couldn’t help being a little tense, ready for the wolf to attack if they should suddenly change their disposition. He was fortunate to have Keena to back him up, and though he couldn’t see her right now, he was certain she was very close by, waiting to see what would happen.


Edited at November 28, 2021 10:38 AM by Freedom
The Art Of War | Wolf RP | Open!November 27, 2021 07:32 PM


TKO

Darkseeker
 
Posts: 4511
#2664358
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Seiko | Male | Subordinate (Witch Doctor) | Okami | Mentions: Open


His red eyes pierced the vial that was currently holding a dark substance. He licked his chops, knowing full well that..whatever he was feeling was going to bother him unless he did something about it. So he did. He swiftly exited his den and was off, bounding westward towards the Rumbar Forest. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care. His legs carried him faster and farther away from the densite, eager to be moving instead of staying in place.

He panted, taking in many smells and fragrances of the land, closing his eyes for a breif moment to appreciate it all. That did him no good as he couldn't see his paws and tripped, falling face first into the dirt and rolling to a sudden stop. He lay there, panting for air and sullenly gazed at the grass. His body hurt from the fall, but his mind was stuck on..on...on....

His thoughts seemed to disappate as he lay there, fully aware of his surroundings, but unable to interact. Being trapped in his little den had drove him to a slight insanity. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know why he did what he did. As the realization dawned on him, he repeated softly, "I don't know what I'm doing..."

He got up, shaking the dirt away from his coat and gritted his teeth when the cold nipped at him. He wanted more in his life than to be someone trapped in a cave making potions all the time. He knew it was helpful, but it was boring sometimes, it wasn't all he wanted to do. He trudged his way back to the densite, slinking into his cave and plopping down with a sigh.


Edited at November 27, 2021 07:33 PM by TKO
The Art Of War | Wolf RP | Open!November 29, 2021 03:39 PM


High Hills Pack

Lightbringer
 
Posts: 3498
#2665467
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Hoarfrost || Female || 4 & ⅜ || Head Lady || M: Fenrir (Ref), Rune (Ref), Khapri (Ref), Indeevar (Ref), Artemis (Ref), NPCs

All was seemingly calm at the moonhigh hour - albeit late. The moon shimmered brightly above the - mostly - slumbering woods. Its surrounding companions - if they were even to be considered such- the stars, twinkled amongst the moon’s light, but were greatly outmatched by their ruler's presence. The stars closest to the glowing being, however, were the brightest. They are deemed as the moon's guards - casting their blaring light at any who dare get too close to their leader.

Raspberry eyes gaze at the moon and its nearest guardians, gleaming in arrogance and pride. A smirk leaves a mark on the maw that rests on, sharp teeth practically glowing in the light provided. A chilled breeze whispers through the area, gently brushing shimmering silver cheeks. The cold air does little to bother the arrogant being.

The eyes soon shift to one star in particular - the brightest of the moon’s guards. With each breath the creature takes, the star twinkles. Breathe in, the star grows brighter. Breathe out, the star dims - though not by much. The ever present smirk grows as the female stares relentlessly at the star she dubbed as her own.

Another day, another wonderful ritual. The smirk grows wider in glee. As yes, the monthly rituals. They always brought a smile to the Head Lady’s face. It was an honor to lead such ceremonies to honor her ‘gods,’ as many claimed they were. Though she rarely does the deed for the ritual. It would ruin her perfectly clean coat. After all, nothing was to be out of place - only the best was expected of this pack, and that made her image even more important. Besides, it was much more satisfying to try and watch the Nameless’s soul blink out of existence as their star’s light dims.

The black and silver female sits there for some time, gazing relentlessly at her star. By the time her subordinates awake, it is nearly Lowlight. The stars - now nothing more than bleak specks against the brightening sky - took their last few twinkles as they went to rest until Nightfall came once more. The moon and her star resisted the call of sleep, but soon succumbed to it as well.

With her main focus now gone, Hoarfrost eyes the camp below. A few wolves - namely subordinates - begin their daily tasks around camp. Of the wolves, the female noted Fenrir interacting with Indeevar as Rune acts as paranoid as ever. To the side, her beta organizes a hunting party consisting of Larkspur, Artemis, and her two Thralls. Nice and orderly, the Head Lady is filled with pride and contemptment.

A startling loud noise catches the attention of the smaller wolf. One of the subordinates, Roxanne, could be seen shaking herself off. Around her was a scattered pile of bones left over from previous meals the pack shared, now a mess staining the perfectly systematized clearing. Hoarfrost snarls, leaping down from her perch and rushing at the older female. She snaps at the wolf’s face, nicking her ear and nearly cutting her snout.

“You dare ruin our prestique camp?!” She howls into the low-level wolf’s ears. Roxanne whimpers, ducking down with her eyes squeezed shut. Two of the Head Lady’s Thralls - Aquila and Vesper - flank her sides, their faces devoid of any emotion.

Before she has the chance to deal a proper punishment, a wolf approaches her. She looks at them with blaring red eyes. The wolf bows their head. Her other Thrall - Cevahir - was the one to approach them. The unfortunate subordinate scurries away while the lead female is distracted, hoping that the Head Lady would not return to focus her attention on her once more.

“What is it, Cevahir?” Hoarfrost snarls, sneering down at the larger bowing wolf. The Thrall proceeds to relay the information he had been given. Her informants had been slaughtered.

“They. Were. What?!” Hoarfrost belows a fierce roar, piercing the ears of any still left in camp, “Those imbeciles! How hard is it to spy on a pack?! Even a Tingfang could do better!”

Hoarfrost begins to pace, seething over the failure of her subordinates. She soon stops, turning to her Thralls. “Aquila, get the Gamma. Vesper, wait at the camp’s entrance for Khapri’s return. Both of you are to inform them that I will be holding a meeting at our usual spot. Cevahir, come with me. I need to know more about our spies' failures.”

The female stalks off to their meeting place, already scheming on future plans to infiltrate the rival pack. They must be taken out. They are the only thing that stands in my way.

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