| |
Darkseeker
|
RP between Hekate and Megan :). Do not post unless your name is in the title but you are very much so allowed to read along! Thank you :) |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Nero [neer-oh] Species: Canine Gender: Brute Age: 2 Rank: Eta (Warrior) Appearance: He is soft-spoken, tall, and yet stout. He's a goliath. Patterned like a leopard with an enormous, mass physique. Personality: Nero shines in faithfulness and allegiance to the clan. He is a steadfast brute despite his waggish appearance and has a good heart and is driven emotionally under his veneer. He is keen to risk his breath for his clanmates and the ones he admires and presumably, likes. He is assertive and exudes morale, not skittish of any risks barreling in his footing, and does say out loud if something doesn't gladden his heart or sentiment. He is delicate and serene if not spoken to. Rational and docile for the most part. Mate/Crush: N/A |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Who should start? :) And how should we start?-// |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Oryn
name meaning Golden
"to often the heart finds a way to love the ones who will never love it back"
Gender: Female
Species: Wolf
Pack: N/A
Rank: N/A
"Sky above me, earth below me, fire within me"
Oryn as her name means is Golden colored, not to bright but not to dark to be brown. Oryn was what one would call a runt; her mother and father having abounded her because of it. At the time she was a young pup merely able to take care of herself. But hell bent, she learned by watching others from afar- though often sticking to the smaller prey such as rabbits and mice. But in doing that she learned to be head strong and independent- another reason she had never attempted to join another pack. She hated being told what to do, when to do it- plus giving your heart to someone often lead to heartbreak. Oryn had learned that the hard way when she had trusted someone to easily before leading to the scar running down her left eye. Friends and enemies were all the same to her.
It was better this way. Something she often told herself throughout the years of her growing older- it wasn't until she reached age four that she stopped questioning her decision- one to many times having come close to joining others or trying to start a family of her own. But each time, led to another wall being built around her heart- Protecting the one thing that kept her alive. Quite literally.
"Its hard to trust when all you have from
the past is evidence of why you shouldn't." |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Nero was surrounded by luxuriant greenery that stretched out as far as his eyes could see. The sun's glimmers filtered through the viscous canopy overhead, dappling the ground with a golden glare. The air was frigid and refreshing, with a delicate breeze that bore the fragrance of earth and leaflets. And the rustling of the booklets and the chirping of the songbirds in the distance resonated through the groves. Each songbird's tweet was a precise chorale that added to the symphony of the woodland. And as Nero paced through the forestland, his acute senses were on alert to every sound and odor around him. He had his cranium tilted in a courteous manner whilst his colorless lobes swiveled and positioned above. He scrutinized the biome with a keen eye, his figure like of a furtive leopard tiptoed through the coppices and fissures between groves, whiffing out the air with an alacritous inhale. He was observing the landscape for any indications of hazard, he was an eta, a warrior, and he needed to accomplish patrolling, once in a while, requested by Caesar, the lead head. The rustling of leaflets under his enormous mitts reverberated throughout the overgrown bushland, as he moved through the undergrowth with a fluid grace that emitted years of experience. His bristling fur was well-groomed, the apricot-hue patterns on his coat melding seamlessly with the earthy tones of the grove. His mind was concentrated solely on the task at hand. He took note of every grove, every chaparral, and every stone, imprinting them in his remembrance as he went. His thoughts were not idle, but rather a continuous stream of information assemblage and examination. Despite the solemn nature of his task, the brute seemed to be relishing the ambiance, his tassel flailing at his hindquarters and his tongue lolling out of his mandibles. His stirs were fluid and resolute, a testament to his expertise in the art of patrolling. |
|
|
Summer 
Day Weather: 
Earthquake
