Post by revelabis on Jul 24, 2012 21:26:13 GMT -5
Name: Vitare (Vee-Tar-eh)
Age:4
Breed:Timber
Gender:Male
Appearance: His charcoal coat dominates the whole of his image. The thick lush fur seems to simply absorb the light that hits it, giving him the appearance of a wolf-shaped void slipping through the terrain around him. His build is smaller than average, yet he makes up for it in his lean muscle, his coiled springs, ready to let loose and propel him forward at lightning speeds. He would be all but invisible were it not for the luminosity of his eyes. One, the glowing green of a deep forest, the other, the shining blue of the Caribbean Sea. There are only two discernible defects in his form. His ears would be fine save that the left one has been permanently folded inward since birth, and his tail is roughly a quarter of the length it should be, shortened by some unknown device before he could consciously remember.
Personality: A tough nut to crack, he truly is the typical prototype introvert. Only ever having connected with one wolf in his life, he would at most desire advancing that number to two with his mate. His strong desire for limited company stems not from an inability to connect, but a lack of desire. He simply wishes to find a companion and live with them and his pups for the remainder of his life, anybody else involved would be no more than fluff, and would be of no concern to him. His attitude towards others and preference to move hidden at night (He has become all but nocturnal) is reflected in his pelt, and he thoroughly enjoys this fact.
Despite all this, he is as level-headed as can be, and knows how to enjoy the little things. He takes it slow as often as possible and simply basks in the beauty of things most others find it hard to notice. Though he does not look for friendship he does his best to, in subtle and un-detectable ways better the lives of those he passes. He is secluded, hidden, shrouded. He sees and helps without being seen himself. He searches for companionship from afar, and in the few encounters he makes, unsure of what he will do when he meets her.
He has never really panicked, preferring to save the freaking out for later, he stays calm and collected until a crisis has passed, and then succumbs to the shakes as the adrenaline wears off. He doesn't believe in anger, but understands it's inevitability, and refuses to say or do anything when his ire has been raised, because he knows a decision made in anger is a decision made by a different person. He is faulted in his perfectionism, a trait that has helped and hindered over the years, but often slows down everything he does to a point of unnecessary "rightness".
Family:Deceased
Mate:N/A
Offspring:N/A
History: He can only remember the flames, the choking smoke rising into the moonless night, and the utter confusion. The great fire that swept his life away is as far back as his memory will let him travel, all of the sights and sounds of his family are beyond recollection. A fact that has haunted him for all of his years. As the raging inferno swept away his life, he sought shelter in the roots of a standing tree and watched as the fire closed in, crying as he waiting for death. But it was not to be. A pair of strong jaws grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and dashed him away deep into the heart of the forest, away from the flames, and away from the death that should have taken him.
His mysterious savior would be the only wolf Vitare would see until he left to live on his own. The grizzled gray old brute taught him everything he knows, and was the only family he had ever had. Despite his obvious care for the pup, he never even told Vitare his name, how he came to save him, where his family was or who they were. So the black wolf went on without knowing who he was, and gave up asking after months of stonewalling. He learned and grew and became strong, as strong as he every could have hoped to be. He and his mentor came to understand each other on the most fundamental level despite only ever saying a few words a day.
So the time passed, and the mentor grew old. He was near the end when he first took in Vitare, and it was scarcely more than a year and a half before his age prevented him from hunting. As his final winter set in his mentor saw fit to give his companion some kind of name other than "boy" or "child" and dubbed him Vitare. Midway through the cold season, his old and frail body simply gave up in it's sleep, leaving Vitare alone. Crushingly alone.He left as soon as the weather permitted, and walked. For months and months, he picked his directions at random, and traveled without purpose. Avoiding others and staying hidden, his life went on, but never in the same place, until he found the land of Thrill, and his saga began.
Sample RP post: The snow covered forest was calm. The thick layer of frosty powder absorbed the ambient sounds and muffled the world, it gave the impression that the woods themselves were sleeping. As the soft flakes were falling towards the earth, two bright orbs stared out from the brambles next to one of the evergreen giants that made up the sparse forest.
A young deer padded around the white floor roughly 30 yards away. He was separated from the heard earlier that day, and in the midst of adolescence. Vitare had carefully positioned himself downwind of his prey, painstakingly stalking his meal for more than two hours, he was hungry and ready to eat. Yet he knew that to rush now would put all of his work to waste, he bided his time. The young deer finally laid down to rest, fretful over the loss of his herd and how he would find them the next day. He curled in the leeward alcove of a towering tree and dosed off, but just as Vitare began to close the distance between them, the wind shifted, the sleeping buck's nose twitched, and he bolted around the tree away from his hunter.
Cursing himself, Vitare took off almost faster than could be believed, and gave chase. He dodged and weaved and threw his legs forward, feeling the weight and power of his motions. He was painfully aware of the icy air in his lungs, he registered the sharp pain and raspy dryness that developed in his throat. He felt his side begin to cramp and his limbs burn as his exertions continued. And he loved it. His prey however could not say the same. His chest heaved and his eyes were wild, foam developed at the edges of his mouth as he poured every last ounce of energy he possessed into escape. As he ran his hoof clipped the edge of a protruding root. He tripped. It was over. He knew when the powerful jaws of his awe inspiring predator closed around his throat and felt no pain as he drained into the clinically white snow, staining it deep crimson. His vision flickered and he passed, and in the cold night, a wolf grinned through the fur of his next meal.
Other wolves played on this site: N/A
How did you find out about us: Zena told me
Age:4
Breed:Timber
Gender:Male
Appearance: His charcoal coat dominates the whole of his image. The thick lush fur seems to simply absorb the light that hits it, giving him the appearance of a wolf-shaped void slipping through the terrain around him. His build is smaller than average, yet he makes up for it in his lean muscle, his coiled springs, ready to let loose and propel him forward at lightning speeds. He would be all but invisible were it not for the luminosity of his eyes. One, the glowing green of a deep forest, the other, the shining blue of the Caribbean Sea. There are only two discernible defects in his form. His ears would be fine save that the left one has been permanently folded inward since birth, and his tail is roughly a quarter of the length it should be, shortened by some unknown device before he could consciously remember.
Personality: A tough nut to crack, he truly is the typical prototype introvert. Only ever having connected with one wolf in his life, he would at most desire advancing that number to two with his mate. His strong desire for limited company stems not from an inability to connect, but a lack of desire. He simply wishes to find a companion and live with them and his pups for the remainder of his life, anybody else involved would be no more than fluff, and would be of no concern to him. His attitude towards others and preference to move hidden at night (He has become all but nocturnal) is reflected in his pelt, and he thoroughly enjoys this fact.
Despite all this, he is as level-headed as can be, and knows how to enjoy the little things. He takes it slow as often as possible and simply basks in the beauty of things most others find it hard to notice. Though he does not look for friendship he does his best to, in subtle and un-detectable ways better the lives of those he passes. He is secluded, hidden, shrouded. He sees and helps without being seen himself. He searches for companionship from afar, and in the few encounters he makes, unsure of what he will do when he meets her.
He has never really panicked, preferring to save the freaking out for later, he stays calm and collected until a crisis has passed, and then succumbs to the shakes as the adrenaline wears off. He doesn't believe in anger, but understands it's inevitability, and refuses to say or do anything when his ire has been raised, because he knows a decision made in anger is a decision made by a different person. He is faulted in his perfectionism, a trait that has helped and hindered over the years, but often slows down everything he does to a point of unnecessary "rightness".
Family:Deceased
Mate:N/A
Offspring:N/A
History: He can only remember the flames, the choking smoke rising into the moonless night, and the utter confusion. The great fire that swept his life away is as far back as his memory will let him travel, all of the sights and sounds of his family are beyond recollection. A fact that has haunted him for all of his years. As the raging inferno swept away his life, he sought shelter in the roots of a standing tree and watched as the fire closed in, crying as he waiting for death. But it was not to be. A pair of strong jaws grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and dashed him away deep into the heart of the forest, away from the flames, and away from the death that should have taken him.
His mysterious savior would be the only wolf Vitare would see until he left to live on his own. The grizzled gray old brute taught him everything he knows, and was the only family he had ever had. Despite his obvious care for the pup, he never even told Vitare his name, how he came to save him, where his family was or who they were. So the black wolf went on without knowing who he was, and gave up asking after months of stonewalling. He learned and grew and became strong, as strong as he every could have hoped to be. He and his mentor came to understand each other on the most fundamental level despite only ever saying a few words a day.
So the time passed, and the mentor grew old. He was near the end when he first took in Vitare, and it was scarcely more than a year and a half before his age prevented him from hunting. As his final winter set in his mentor saw fit to give his companion some kind of name other than "boy" or "child" and dubbed him Vitare. Midway through the cold season, his old and frail body simply gave up in it's sleep, leaving Vitare alone. Crushingly alone.He left as soon as the weather permitted, and walked. For months and months, he picked his directions at random, and traveled without purpose. Avoiding others and staying hidden, his life went on, but never in the same place, until he found the land of Thrill, and his saga began.
Sample RP post: The snow covered forest was calm. The thick layer of frosty powder absorbed the ambient sounds and muffled the world, it gave the impression that the woods themselves were sleeping. As the soft flakes were falling towards the earth, two bright orbs stared out from the brambles next to one of the evergreen giants that made up the sparse forest.
A young deer padded around the white floor roughly 30 yards away. He was separated from the heard earlier that day, and in the midst of adolescence. Vitare had carefully positioned himself downwind of his prey, painstakingly stalking his meal for more than two hours, he was hungry and ready to eat. Yet he knew that to rush now would put all of his work to waste, he bided his time. The young deer finally laid down to rest, fretful over the loss of his herd and how he would find them the next day. He curled in the leeward alcove of a towering tree and dosed off, but just as Vitare began to close the distance between them, the wind shifted, the sleeping buck's nose twitched, and he bolted around the tree away from his hunter.
Cursing himself, Vitare took off almost faster than could be believed, and gave chase. He dodged and weaved and threw his legs forward, feeling the weight and power of his motions. He was painfully aware of the icy air in his lungs, he registered the sharp pain and raspy dryness that developed in his throat. He felt his side begin to cramp and his limbs burn as his exertions continued. And he loved it. His prey however could not say the same. His chest heaved and his eyes were wild, foam developed at the edges of his mouth as he poured every last ounce of energy he possessed into escape. As he ran his hoof clipped the edge of a protruding root. He tripped. It was over. He knew when the powerful jaws of his awe inspiring predator closed around his throat and felt no pain as he drained into the clinically white snow, staining it deep crimson. His vision flickered and he passed, and in the cold night, a wolf grinned through the fur of his next meal.
Other wolves played on this site: N/A
How did you find out about us: Zena told me
