ＢＥＡＵＴＹ ＡＮＤ ＴＨＥ ＢＥＡＳＴ || ｗｏｌｆ ｒｏｍａｎｃｅ || ˢᵉᵐᶦ ᶫᶦᵗ

[mindless.]

ｂｏｒｅａｌｉｓ.

• Hey, wait up! This here is our lovely miss Borealis. Many call her Alice. A four year old female. A small female, she has a lanky, slender body and a narrow head. Her legs are long and agile, and her fur short. A huge con in the winter. It is a russet color, a few white patches seperating it. There is a peppering of black in varying places as well. Yes, she is an Etheopian wolf. You will figure out how she ended up here as we discuss her past. Now we will get a little more personal here.


• Why do you keep running off? For a failry unknown reason, this femme is rather flighty. Many figure her a weak one. scared. While yes, she is, she is also smart. All this running about with light feet and observing small things, she knows a lot more than you think. Borealis is rather observant, not outgoing. Her quiet is mysterious, but she just needs to ensure what she says sounds decent.


• Flighty. Absolutely. Alice here rarely sticks around to let anyone get her name or even a word out of her. Sure, she may watch a pack out of curiosity, but when one begins to approach, she will commonly turn and flee. Her flighty attitude can be aggrevating, the fights it has induced have made it all the worse. This female is relatively unsure of how to react to many wolves, and this causes her to panic and dart soemtimes. but it can save her from trouble.


• Observant. Her flighty and quiet way about the land causes her to get away with wandering on pack lands for hours. She is often seen with her eyes containing awe in simple things and her mind working to analyze anything she runs across. She will watch a pack wolf, and if she knows its rank, deciphers their duties. She hates to ask for help, so watching others is how she has always learned. Alice still uses that method, her eyes careful and her mind sharp.
• Quiet.If anything is going to irritate you about this female, it is her stubborn quiet ways. Trying to get her name is a feat, and it takes her a little while of silent observing and body language to gain her faith. Alice needs patience, if that is not an attribute to you, this is not someone you should reach out to. She has a light and inncent voice, the only time she is vocal much anymore is when she howls, a strange, foriegn ring to the songs. Her quiet is her way of self defence, no one can know too much or grow too close.




• Why won't you just talk to me? When this female was born, she never expected the turns her life would take. Born in Etheopia, she was to have the normal life of the average Etheopian wolf. She was happy, thriving within a small group of loners, no ranks or anything. Just carefree times. Until the thundership landed. Helicopter, as you may know it. It was full of researchers. Although her and her young friend thought a getaway was their best bet. Darts in their flanks, the two bolted for the hills. Humans figured they would be fine. They had gotten too far for them to find however, and woke to realize this. He was older than she, and taught her by showing her. Hunting and fighting were learned by quiet observation. It was a normal, lonely life. But she was content spending it with her trusty companion she had total faith in. During a carefree jog, they crossed a road. He told her they would play hide and seek. She loved that game, often able to scare him when she found him as she was a silent walker. Hiding her head under her small tan paws she counted in her head. The sound of a car drowned out his pawsteps. Drat. She would have to search harder now. Finishing counting, she jumped up. "Ready or not, here I co--" Her paws skidded to a dusty stop on the road. She still cannot describe the scene. Maw wide open, she felt her eyes stinging as she raced over, nosing him desperately. "No! No! Come on!" Voice craking, she was forced to break down, lying with her head on his side for days in a row. Starving, she eventually was weak enough to fall asleep. Awakening in a strange building, many humans swooned around her. Frgrant food was shoved in her face. It was a while before she was too hungry to resist eating. Her mind was clouded by utter loss. Alice was given an injection and removed from her cage, the sight being a huge mesh net swallowing her up and the sound of a thundership above her and her body lifting from the ground. The medicine made her limp, but her eyes watched below her as she was floating across civilization and soon miles of trees surrounded her. So different from her old home. Set down in the trees and eventually regaining strength, she wanders this land and hopes to discover how to live off it.


• ...oh. Well, what about now? She is a lone wolf, and currently matchless.

x--------------x--------------x--------------x--------------x--------------x--------------x

{Roman, the great empire.}

{ Bᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪs ɴᴏɴsᴇɴsᴇ. }
{ name: roman
{ nicknames: n/a
{ gender: male
{ age: five and a half
{ pack?: yes
{ rank: fighter
{ personality:
power-hungry and strong.

Dude, I never even did anything to you! No one ever does anything to really deserve the Wrath of Roman. Named after a powerful city, he takes that seriously. His father made it very clear he was to become the best leader there is. His body is built for power. His shoulders are widely set, a powerful chest and mucled frame bringing him to an impressive size. Roman may not really be much of a gentleman, his red and grey pelt often messy and his amber eyes seemingly dark somehow. He sometimes acts up to his name, civilized and put together. But if he has had a nasty or boring day, he may become snappy just because he is bored and wants to pick a fight for fun.

Fights are not anyone's idea of fun in all honesty. but to him, they are what bring him entertainment in a world of dull. Alas, you will also see him sleeping around camp, not up to patrol every five seconds. Aged at seven, he often thinks rest is well deserved, He has been up and about for that long, what cana few naps do? If a fight starts, he will be right there in aheartbeat. Now, he is rather power-hungry. His size and age give him confidence, and you will frequently see him starting fights with a lead role, or higher rank. Why shouldn't he hold the reins? he had once. Rather well. Roman is not an obeidient lad in the least. This male will sass the leader and openly disobey him. He dreams of having a one-on-one fight with him for the spot of alpha male. That would be the day. No brown-nosing suck-ups to back up the weakling that is the leader. Strong physically and mentally, little insults bounce off his thick frame and back at the wolf dishing them out. Quick to snap, he never attacks if he has no chance of survival. Emotional affairs are petty. He was once a leader, and was strengthened well.

Back in his old lands, this fella led a big pack. He inherited the spot of alpha. Roman took it seriously, shaping up the pack to his standards. Fight until you win. Don't walk away from a fight. It was all a powerful and wonderful life. His pack moved fluidly under his control. He was a fine leader. Until the Dark Day came. It was all a decent morning. Quiet of course. A few of his hunters rushed into camp, a type of panic on their faces. Calling for him, the big red male padded to them, questioning. Then the distant thundering of hooves sounded. A lot of them. Eyes settling on a big herd of moose, he loudly called to his pack, warning them to move. Satisfied the pups were taken away from the hueg hooves that began crushing thorugh the camp, the male made his own way out. Moose calls rang heavy in the air. Once he was out of the way, he looked to see what was making them destroy the entire camp, trampling the prey stores, and injuring wolves that limped about, and ending the ones that lie limp on the ground, beaten and broken. Then howls sounded. A pack flew into view. So they meet again. Turned out that the leader of this rival pack flushed the moose over. The leveling of his camp and killing of good warriors was infuriating. Which is why he pounced. The two packs met, a mix of flyign fur and snarls. Roman fought hard. And then another wave of wolves from the rivals appeared. His own pack was running from the hopeless cause. Chased out by the entire rival pack on his tail, he is determined to prove himself once again.

Love is not too uncommon to him. The female he loved was killed by the stampede that ravaged his old pack's land. His pups were lost, taken with the other wolves of his pack, hopefully safe. The male is a protector, large and caring at heart. Cold as he may seem, he can be a rather fantastic companion, and will take to loners more easily thn most other pack wolves. No females have yet caught his careful eye. He searches for a responsible, beautiful, and strong female to claim as his mate.[/color]

{ for lion and the lamb }

[spookyemma]

→ cнeyenne
|| Female || Loner || No Crush || With - Keus ||

A flash of movement caught those bright amber eyes, wide open and alert. Cheyenne's body was crouched low to the ground, her belly scraping the dirt. She moved forward slowly, stalking the rabbit. Her small white paws moved soundlessly across the forest floor. Closer and closer she moved, the distance seeming like miles with all the anticipation building up inside her. But she had to be patient. Moving too fast or pouncing on her prey too early would have her ending up with empty jaws, as well as an empty stomach. She had learned this after countless hunting failures. But with mistakes, you learned, and you gained experience. Cheyenne had to wait for the perfect time to pounce upon the prey, engulfing her jaws around it and killing it. She knew this, and that was what she intended to follow. Her striking amber eyes bore into the rabbit intensely. It sat, nibbling on grass, completely unaware that it was about to be killed. She could see that the rabbit's muscles were not tense, not ready to make a sudden movement like Cheyenne was. She held her breath. Now was the time. She jolted into the air, landing upon the startled rabbit, leaving it no time to get away. She bit down, hearing the satisfying crack of it's neck, killing it. The struggle of it soon faded away, the rabbit no longer moving. But Cheyenne suddenly felt something pierce her skin. Then another. And another. The pain was sharp, like needles. What was happening? Was she being attacked by bees or something? She did not hear the angry buzz of the insects. Cheyenne looked around her. She had tumbled into a thorn bush! She yelped in pain as another needle-like thorn punctured her skin. She struggled to crawl out, more thorns impaling her in the process. She winced and yelped out in pain again. Dropping the rabbit, she sat down to pull out the painful thorns now that she was finally out of the bush. She reached for her back, where the thorns had gotten her. She managed to pull a few out, the blood pouring out of the small holes that the thorns had made; it was almost as if the thorns were a plug. The pain was excruciating pulling them out. She could not reach the ones that were farther down her back. Blood now stained the white pelt like paint on a canvas.

That was the life of a loner. Hunting for yourself, healing yourself, fending for yourself. It was hard being one. You had no one there to help you, to be there with you, to show emotions to. You had to do everything yourself. You were out in dangerous territory, no protection of another wolf or a pack. If you did not know a bit of healing or weren't decent at hunting or fighting, you would surely die in no matter of time.

As she chewed on the rabbit thoughtfully, a smell caught her nose. It seemed familiar. Did she know this brute? She couldn't place who it was. Her curiosity brought her up, following the smell, the rabbit hanging from her jaws. She followed the smell until she came upon the brute. He was quite large, his pelt black as night, his eyes glowing yellow. Then it hit her - Keus. The rabbit fell to the ground with a plop; her mouth now hanging wide open. Memories flooded into her mind like a tidal wave, invading every little crook and cranny of her brain. Vivid images surfaced. Her and Keus exploring as pups together, tumbling around and playing, hunting together when they were old enough. He had been her best friend. They had done so many things together when they were pups. It was so happy and content. She thought things would never change. But she was wrong when the poachers came with their weird boxes that shot deadly rocks. That's what caused them to be separated, and Cheyenne couldn't believe that she had forgotten her best friend. She had done everything with him. And now, he was here with her, standing right before her eyes. It seemed unreal, that they could somehow possibly meet again. Bringing herself out of her thoughts, she finally found her voice. "K-Keus? Is it really you?"

[ShoeShoe]

»»»Keus ¦¦ Brute ¦¦ Loner ¦¦ No Crush ¦¦ With → Cheyenne

When the sun's first rays began to escape over the cover of the horizon, procuring shadows that were thrown across the wooded landscape from the trees, Keus awoke. The black brute had ended up sleeping out in the open throughout the night, due to the failure of finding a decent covering to make a den. His eyelids peeled back, revealing piercing yellow eyes that took in the awakening forest around him. As the sun rose, the forest came alive. The birds began to sing their songs, their chirps echoing for what seemed like miles. His delicate ears could just pick up the scuttle of squirrels as they clambered up and down the trunks of the trees, close enough that he could have made one of them his meal; he, however, lacked the energy to get up and chase after them. Keus was not the morning type. He preferred to hunt in the cover of darkness, when his pelt blended in to the shadows and only his yellow eyes were visible. As a loner, however, it was still difficult to catch prey by himself, or anything large enough to suffice for more than a day. Due to that fact, he had come accustomed to going days without a meal, and thus his body was mostly muscle, with little fat to spare.

Figuring that he should probably get up at some point, Keus pushed himself to his paws, his hind legs straightening out first as he leaned down to stretch his stomach and the back of his forelegs. He shook his pelt out, dispelling his black fur of leaves and other debris that had attached itself during the night as he thrashed and rolled about. It was rare for him to go a night without some sort of nightmare, though he could never remember what they were about. He would usually end up waking repeatedly throughout the night with a start, his eyes flashing open, his muscles tense and his whole body alert, waiting for something to attack him. He hated the fact that he didn't know what was after him in those nightmare, and because of it, it was hard to push the thoughts to the back of his mind throughout the day.

Sighing, the black brute perked his ears and looked around, his maw parting as he inhaled, trying to find some sort of scent. He knew that there was a pack nearby, he had caught the scent near one of their borders a few days ago. Since then, he had not run into any other wolf's scent. It was not the scent of a wolf that caught his attention, however, it was the sound of a wolf's yelps and cries of pain. Turning his head in the direction of the sound, Keus' eyes narrowed. The thought crossed his mind to forget about the wolf, but he was not one to care though he showed little emotion on his face. Thus, he headed off in the direction of the sound, his ears alert for any more signs of distress, though the yelps seemed to have stopped. As he got closer, he picked up the scent of the wolf, which he determined was a fae, and it was a familiar scent at that. Stricken from the familiarity of the fae's scent, the black brute paused midstep, his golden eyes widening ever so slightly. The muscles in his body were frozen as the scent invaded his nostrils and his mind. Memories, hundreds of memories flooded his mind, flashing across his eyes. Cheyenne?, he thought, his heart beginning to race at the thought of it being her, his long lost friend. She had been his only friend when he was a pup, other than his sister. The white fae was the only one who he had talked to, actually let peek behind the mask that always covered his black face.

As she stepped into his line of sight, Keus stood there, his ears perked, trying so very hard to compose his expression into its usual mask of apathy. He watched her as she approached, taking in her bigger form, all grown up and white as snow. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her scent, now right in front of him, and 100% her's. It took him a while to comprehend what she had said, and figure out what to say back. Flicking his ears, the black brute replied, his voice gravelly, "Yeah, it's me, Chey."

[kyte]

The name's Charleston. Please be a champ,
and use it as much as possible and as warmly so.

Abernathy is my other preferred go-by.
Don't call me Charlie or Charles or any of that...
Just Abernathy.

I'm a brute,
if you didn't find that blatently obvious.

Never ask a wolf his age. It's just not polite.
But if you must know, I'm 2 years and 6 months old.
Still young and restless (or reckless, as some might say).

I weigh a lean 53 pounds,
thank you.

I stand quite contently at
28 inches tall.
Perhaps a bit short for my specie
but I'm happy with it!

I am 51 inches from my nose to the tip of my tail.

Charleston is a lean red wolf with long legs (as with the rest of the specie). He is on the shorter scale of them, though still within the average size limits and he walks with the rest of them- in size, at least. His tail is long and somewhat thick with his soft fur. He has normal-sized paws, which make for good running along with his long legs. He also can climb well along mountains and cliffs. Though, whenever he injures himself and has a limp, his leg length pronounces it more and makes it appear more serious.

Charleston's coat is base red, with some black over it, going down his tail and at the tip, over his back, and on his forehead and cheeks. His underbelly, patches on his chest, and inner legs are lighter red, while the bottom of his legs and the underneath of his muzzle are white.
The fur of his coat is quite soft and lays flat. It is longest on his tail, save in winter, when his thicker coat grows in and it's all about the same length.

His eyes are amber, and change between dim and bright in accordance to his mood.

A sexy beast. 'Nuff said.
His is somewhat tall, lean, and has a flat coat with soft fur, which on his winter coat becomes much thicker and more puffed out in appearance.

Charleston is extremely outgoing. If he wants to do something, he most often will just do it unless it will put another in danger that he is aware of.
He is very boisterous. He is still young, and even younger at heart, running about like a pup. Like the world has never wronged him, and that it will never be anything but smiles and laughter.
Though he has been in the dark for a fairly large piece of his life, he takes the path of light, doing anything in his power to makes sure his never goes out and that all of his actions are those of good. He is very kind and sweet, and flamboyant in much of what he does. He would not be described as stand-offish, though he does stand up for his beliefs and for the greater good. His actions speak louder than his words some of the time though his words are loud too.
He likes to pull pranks, as many young pups do, and enjoys a good laugh. He will laugh at your jokes when no other will, and will carry you up the mountain when you fall. His loyalty has hurt him, though he shakes it off and goes on with life.

Oh wow... Where do I start.
I have a long history for so few years. I was born to a forbidden couple. An Alpha and a Lone wolf. My father was mated to snooty little Alpha fae. Whatever he saw in her I know not, even to this day after seeing so many couples. From afar, of course. But that's not the point. My mother, however, was beautiful. She was kind, and had a heart of gold which she wore on her shoulder. She was patient, and was what I would say was perfect. She and my father kept their relationship secret, and he was careful to soak in the streams after each visit so her scent did not stain his pelt and arise questions from his mate. Then I came alone. My mother was the happiest wolf in all of creation, to have me, her own pup. My father, the lying sneak that he was, cared for me in part. He went on hunts each time he came, bringing back meat for me and my mother. The days were wonderful. I would say that four or so months passed before they were found out. My father returned to he and his mate's den after hunting for us. He still carried the scent of the meat and that which belonged to us, as the hunting had worn him down that day and he had not the strength to cleanse himself in the stream. His mate was first suspicious when he carried the scent of meat yet no meat, and seemed to have not eaten in days. Then the scent of my mother drove fury into her, and she ordered her guards to hunt down the fae who owned the scent on his pelt. They found her, and she possessed no hope in escaping. I refused to leave her side, and although she'd ordered me to stay hidden, I had not, and had stuck by her when those awful wolves dragged her from the den. She had courage in her eyes, and seemed calmed. She radiated hope and bravery, which I clung to.
She was brought to trial before the Alpha fae. She was in bias charged as guilty, and the punishment was severe. My mother was dismembered by the cruel jaws of those guards, like zombies they ripped through her flesh and moved to the commands of that fae. I stared in horror as her heart stained the innards of the cave, and turned my coat deep red with the shining blood. They gave me the opportunity to run, and to leave the territory. My father did not defend either of us, did not even lift his head in terror as they tore my mother apart.
I did not stop running until I was sure I had traveled half the earth. I fed myself at first on the scraps that packs had forgotten about, and they never noticed me. All I was to them was a scent through their territory, not menacing enough to follow and attack. I learned how to hunt on my own, though my skill spreads only to deer.

Well, Mister Question-Question, I think you're somethin' else.
Charleston is, yes, homosexual.

Rudeness. It's just not nice.
I must say that I hate it when I'm ignored.
I won't eat rabbit meat. They are too cute and too fuzzy and just plain too adorable to eat!
Pessimists. The lake is half full, or as I like to say, full to the brim!
I don't like to be made fun of. I am who I am and if you don't like you can kiss my sweet behind!
I don't like big brutes who like to show off their strength...

Being paid a lot of attention.
Small brutes with fight in them, but while fierce are kind. Omegas also catch his eye. Also optimistic. (That's his type...)
Pups.
Rainbows. (duuuuuh...)
Sunshine and nice days.
Fields with lots of flowers and semi-tall grass that he can run through and lay in to watch the clouds.
Watching the clouds, especially with a brute he likes.
Spring.
His favorite meat is salmon, which he can hardly catch...
Hanging out with faes, like girl-time, and sharing gossip with them.
Mint.

Charleston in truth fears very little. It's not that he's brave, and can stand up to fear ready to fight, it's more that he finds nothing to fear in anything. He sees the goodness in all things, and has an extremely optimistic view on all things. The only thing you can really say he fears is never finding love. Wolves like him (who like males) are nearly impossible to find, at least for him.

He is extremely trusting. He gives everyone the benefit of the doubt and though he is sometimes warned about certain wolves, he still lets them dig into his heart likes burrs on his skin. He gets hurt, and when they let him down he falls hard. He tries to not let it show, or bother him, though his emotions show like the sun in a clear sky, and he is in a depressed state for several days.
He finds love too easily, though for him the feeling is rarely mutual as most brute are interested in, well, faes. This also crushes his heart as they don't let him down easily once they find he is interested in brutes.
Charleston is childish in general, and though sweet as the dickens he loves to run about like a pup. He often is treated as such and gets in trouble for some of his puppy-like actions.
His free spirit and inability to keep his mouth shut most of the time are looked down on by others, especially pack wolves as his outlook doesn't change for Alphas.

Loner

Noone...
As of yet.

Oh honey, I'm still single.

None, though once I find a mate to settle down with I would love to adopt a pawful of cubs to raise.

It's a Beautiful Day by Michael Buble

Please do not use. This is for my personal use only.

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[left][quote][center][color=#ff0000]♡[/color][color=#cc8f33]☼[/color][color=#99ed66]❀[/color][color=#66f899]☼[/color][color=#33accc]♡[/color]
[img]http://fontmeme.com/create.php?text=Charleston&name=BeforeTheRain_personal_use_demo.ttf&size=15&style_color=FF0000[/img]
[color=#ff0000]м[/color][color=#f3210b]σ[/color][color=#e84116]σ[/color][color=#dd6121]∂[/color]~ __
 [color=#c79a37]ω[/color][color=#bcb342]ι[/color][color=#b1c94d]т[/color][color=#a6dc58]н[/color]~ __
 [color=#90f66e]∂[/color][color=#85fc79]σ[/color][color=#79fe85]ι[/color][color=#6efd90]η[/color][color=#63f69b]g[/color]~ __
 [color=#4dddb1]ƒ[/color][color=#42cbbc]є[/color][color=#37b5c7]є[/color][color=#2c9dd2]ℓ[/color][color=#2181dd]ι[/color][color=#1663e8]η[/color][color=#0b44f3]g[/color]~ __[/center][/quote][/left][center][color=#00FFFF]Text here.[/color][/center]

[Demonsockpuppet]

Layak -Sub/Omega - 2.8 - Single
Layak's eyes fluttered gently as she woke, bright yellow iris' glowing in the darkness of her den. Opening her maw, the fae yawned and sat up, giving her crinkled by sleep fur a good groom. After a couple minutes of grooming, the slender, creamy yellow fae stood and padded out of her den, looking at the dark but pretty dawn sky. Looking around the still dark camp, the subordinate/omega saw no one and sighed happily. Layak wasn't much of a talker, she always kept to the shadows of the camp and kept away from the busy parts of camp.

[Lothlórien]

((I will be offline all of today and most of Monday. I am going camping and I am not sure if I will be able to get internet so that is why I am saying I will be off. Just wanted to let you know.))

A M O R E T T E

T H E B E A U T Y

Female
2 1/2 Years
Single
No Crush
In Meadow
With Kaylar
Feeling Focused

As Kaylar moved to his position, the white fae walked to her position and then slowly stalked forward her eyes locked on the deer. She got as low to the ground as she could and then when just a 3 or 4 feet away she sprang up and ran full speed at the deer. Despite her small size she was rather fast and she jumped on the deer before it could do more then lift it's head toward her. It was still for a moment and she bit into it's neck, the deer started bucking wildly then and she slipped off but not before sinking her fangs into it's thigh. She hated how this was going, why couldn't things be hunted fast without all the wiggling and bucking? Didn't the animals know it just made things worse. Of coarse if something was trying to kill her she wouldn't go down without a fight ether. The deer was once again in shock and she looked around for Kaylar. He should be coming in any moment now, the deer started moving more and she turned back to it ready to give chase. But as she nipped it's legs it headed toward the thick patch of trees. Good, then they would be able to corner it.

[lvxe]

Joining
My reservations;
Fae in 'Hot Mess'
Brute in 'Trouble'

[Raging Kittens]

Katniss

Name: Katniss duh!
Gender: Female
Age: 3
Personality: Funny, kind and smart and she's very cheerful but a bit shy and nervous
Likes: She loves roses and always roll around the plant that feel like cat fur. She likes a male with humour and kindness
Distlikes (lol): Annoying wolves and BARRELS (lol jk) very serious wolves
Others?: My horoscope is Virgo and my favorite colours are lapiz lazule blue and rose red. She can be won over by humor or they give me a rose.
CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSH?!: no one unless I know their actions :3 I don't stalk people X3
Mate?: no one :l
Pups :O : no one :[

[mindless.]

{ fennec, i posted a form for the male in lion and the lamb above :3 }

[spookyemma]

[ Guys, if you look on page five, lynettetan has already taken the lion in Lion and the Lamb. ]