ˁᴬᴹᴱ ᴵᴺ ᴮᵁᴵᴸᴰ˒ ᴰᴵᶠᶠᴱᴿᴱᴺᵀ ᴬᵀ ᴴᴱᴬᴿᵀˑ - open.

[indefinite.]

{{ i'm sorry, but this is a high literate roleplay, and after searching through your posts you dont quite qualify. perhaps another time. }}

[Vumit]

{Hello, I was wondering If I had to use a form, or if I could simply post an introductory paragraph with all the information needed. You see, I'm not good at making my own forms, and I don't have one handy. I'm also not very good with the personality and history parts of the form. I have trouble putting depth and such into it, unlike my posts.}

[indefinite.]

{{ no, you need a form. just scan throughout the wolf roleplays, borrow a form, and be sure to give the creator credit. }}

[Vumit]

{Okay, but just a warning, the personality will not be that good. I have a really have a hard time with it.}

[Vumit]

||Marai || Rai || Huntress||

Image found here.

๏This is who I want you to see๏

Name-
"My name is Marai. Don't like the name, blame my parents."
Nickname-
"Call me Rai is you feel the need."
Age-
"I am four years of age."
Gender-
"I'm a female, of course. Is your nose broken?"

๏This is my unfortunate social life๏

Crush-
"I have nothing against love, but I don't think anyone would want to put up with me. I'm not exactly the nicest girl, nor am I the prettiest. And you know what? I'm fine with that."
Mate-
"Yeah, right."
Pups-
"I love them, actually. I wish I had some."
Siblings-
"Died in the fire, or ran far away from there."
Parents-
"Dead."
Friends-
"Eh. Whatever. If someone who I happen to not feel disdain toward doesn't mind me, sure."
Enemies-
"I don't care who hates me."

๏This is who I really am๏

Personality-
Marai is a character, to say the least. Never afraid to say anything that comes to mind, no matter how others might react. She seems to be missing that part of her brain that tells her enough is enough. It's not really that she lacks self control however, mostly just because her people skills aren't the best. She hates to admit that she's not good with others, or any weakness at all, so she tends to just stay away. You don't have to face your problems if you steer clear.
(Sorry it's short, but I prefer to Rp my characters out anyway. It describes them much better.)
History-
{I will explain this later in the rp.}
Rank wanted-
"I don't care."
Current rank-
"Huntress."

๏These are just a little extra๏

Theme Song-
(Don't have one for her yet.)
Roleplay Sample-
(If you need one, I'll type one up.
Other-
❝тнe ιɴdιαɴ ѕυммer oғ lιғe ѕнoυld вe α lιттle ѕυɴɴy αɴd α lιттle ѕαd, lιĸe тнe ѕeαѕoɴ,
αɴd ιɴғιɴιтe ιɴ weαlтн αɴd ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴛᴏɴᴇ, вυт ɴever нυѕтled. ❞
~ нeɴry αdαмѕ

[indefinite.]

{{ my rules say make both genders. }}

[Vumit]

{You know what, I think I'll have to pass. My family just told me we're not going to have internet on this vacation we're going on, and it's 10 days long. Sorry.}

[indefinite.]

{{ bump~ }}

[saorsa-]

{ Reserve me female loner named Bryn, and a male fighter named Crusoe? Pwease and Thanks. c: }

▶ Ｎａｍｅ: ◀ Crusoe - This brute was named by his father and the she-wolf he was in love with, somewhat ironic, since she wasn't his mother. But, he never really knew that, he's always been told that his father picked out his name, so he doesn't really think anything of it.
▶ Ｇｅｎｄｅｒ: ◀ "Are you blind? Do I look all slender and delicate like a female? I. Don't. Think. So." Crusoe is obviously a male, most noticible by his stocky, well-muscled build.
▶ Ａｇｅ: ◀ 4 Years old, not young enough to be considered a young adult, not old enough to be considered an elderly wolf, Crusoe is right in the middle.
▶ Ｆａｍｉｌｙ: ◀ Crusoe's mother was a lone she-wolf that the pack wanted to get rid of. When she discovered that she was pregant with the beta's pups, she stayed close, long enough for her to give birth. Once she was free of the pups, she gave them to the pack and never looked back. Crusoe never knew his mother. His father, as aforementioned, was the beta male of a prominent pack. The leader left him behind to spy on the loner that was trailing them, with orders to get rid of her. They spent several days together before he decided that the pack was growing wary. After that, he left her in the middle of the night, and never thought about her again, that is, until the pups showed up on the packlands. He knew immediately that they were his. Crusoe had two siblings, Miri and Tuck, both of whom he left behind when he no longer wanted to stay with his father's pack. He doesn't know whether or not they are still alive.
▶ Ｃｒｕｓｈ: ◀ "Why would I waste my valuable time on something so silly."
▶ Ｍａｔｅ: ◀ "Hmmph. Yeah right."
▶ Ｐｕｐｓ: ◀ "Let's not talk about that now, sweetheart."
▶ Ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ: ◀ [History here. Please, Please be detailed!]
▶ Ｐｈｙｓｉｃａｌ Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: ◀ Crusoe is a bulkier male, taking after the wolf he called his father. He is well muscled and strong, but not as swift as some of the leaner wolves. He certainly knows how to put up a good fight, and knows how to use his size and his strength in a fight. His coat color can only be described as a creamy, off-white color. In the summer time, after he sheds his winter fur, he looks even more like a wolf who has rolled in buttermilk. His eyes are large and expressive, although he rarely allowes anyone to see what he is truly feeling, and the color of dark amber. He has large ears, which are usually darker than the rest of his coat. His underbelly is a shade lighter than his darker cream-colored back, although unless he is sleeping on his side, or pinned in a fight, it is something most wolves don't take notice of.
▶ Ｏｔｈｅｒ: ◀ He is a flirt, and a cunning, emotionless one at that.

___________________________________________________________________________________

▶ Ｎａｍｅ: ◀ "Bryn" - Bryn's mother spent a long time deciding on her name, and it it something that Bryn takes great pride in. She loves her name.
▶ Ｇｅｎｄｅｒ: ◀ "A fae, obviously. What else would I be? A Brute? Ha." Bryn is most definitely a female, the only daugter to be born to her mother.
▶ Ａｇｅ: ◀ "3" A little on the young side, Bryn's slender and small features often make her look younger than she actually is. She actually probably looks more like a two year old than her actual three year old age.
▶ Ｆａｍｉｌｙ: ◀ Bryn never really has experienced "family life," which is why she is wary about joining the pack. She never knew her father - he was a rogue wolf who managed to get the omega female of a local pack pregnant. He left before she even realized she was going to have pups. As for Bryn's mother, the alphas were furious with her when they found out that she was going to have pups. But their pack was a small one, and they couldn't afford to kill her off, so they forced her to abandon her pups, a small boy, and Bryn when they were born. An elderly wolf found them, but by that time, the young male pup was already den, and Bryn was not far behind him. She took the pup and somehow managed to raise her. The elderly wolf passed away when Bryn was barely one, and she's been on her own, barely surviving ever since.
▶ Ｃｒｕｓｈ: ◀ "No, maybe someone will come along."
▶ Ｍａｔｅ: ◀ "Never had one, and probably never will."
▶ Ｐｕｐｓ: ◀ "They are cute, but none are mine."
▶ Ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ: ◀ [History here. Please, Please be detailed!]
▶ Ｐｈｙｓｉｃａｌ Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: ◀ Bryn is a very tiny fae, looking much younger than she appears. She has soft white fur that sometimes appears creamy, like in the spring and summer, other times it is more silvery like in the winter and fall. Her underbelly is a more pristine white than her back and legs. Her muzzle is long and tapers to a fine, delicate black nose. She is lean and fast, almost so lean to be considered skinny. When she's sopping wet, she looks a bit pathetic, she's so small. Her eyes are soft brown and expressive, often portraying her emotions when she doesn't exactly realize it.
▶ Ｏｔｈｅｒ: ◀ Bryn has very few secrets to hide...but the ones she does, she will protect with her life.

[wickedbvnes]

[ Nickname ] :: The most common nickname that she has is Stormy. It is the only thing apart from her birth given name that she will respond to.
[ Age ] :: For three years, her presence has been known to the world
[ Gender ] :: Storm was born as a female
[ Rank ] :: A fearsome warrior.
[ Species ] :: Eastern Wolf blood runs through her veins
[ Status ] :: Healthy
[ Fame ] :: Many wolves know her tale - there are few that have not heard of her (or her family's) endeavors
[ Title ] :: In the legends, Storm is known by three names - Storm, Storm of Fallen Roses, and Storm of the Thrylikó
[ Pack ] :: Shadow.


[ Coat ] :: Storm has a fluffy pelt that is thick and relatively soft
[ Fur Colour ] :: The fur that covers her body is a mix of greys and browns of various intensities
[ Eye Colour ] :: Storm's eyes are a brilliant gold, like individual flashes of lightning
[ Markings ] :: To begin with, there is a sort of helmet of darker grey that spills from the top of her head, down her face and back. The majority of the area along her spine is a mish mash of greys and light and dark browns. Her legs are lighter than the rest of her body, matching the lower part of her jaw and her belly. Her ears are rimmed in brown with light beige tips, and her tail tips out at black.
[ Scars ] :: Storm has many battle scars hidden beneath her thick fur, but the only ones that are noticeable are on her leg, and the one that falls from the bridge of her nose and down the left side of her jaw, down to her chin
[ Build ] :: Where the hardened female grew up, she was a warrior, so her fur hides solid muscles. Apart from this, she is small, as is usual with her breed


[ Personality ] :: Storm is not one for friendly games or relaxing. Her mind is a vortex of spiraling information and judgements. "Friend" is not a word that fits anywhere into her vocabulary. To her, the pack is not a place for forging bonds and for making jokes - it is a link of mutual agreement for the bettering of the likelihood of survival. Like a storm, Storm is relentless and unforgiving. She will do whatever it takes to make sure that she will carry on - even if it takes her to the teetering point of life.
In her endeavors, Storm has taught herself the way of the herb, how to hunt, how to fight, and how to outsmart even the most sly of the coyotes. She does not take no for an answer, and will not tolerate any signs of weakness. Weakness, to her, is anything that is not constructive to making life possible. Though she does not see a point to love, she will choose a mate - likely to be the strongest and best suited for providing offspring - just to spread the line of her genealogy and ensure the survival of wolves for years to come.
Many have made the claim that she is all data and no emotion, but that would not be true. Her anger is quick as a whip, and her trust brings out an entirely different side that extremely few have ever gotten the chance to get to know. That softer, more delicate side remains hidden, because Storm sees kindness as a weakness and an openness for enemies to strike her down. She also suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, which has led to periods of withdrawl, where she becomes unable to be reached, as well as a nagging voice in her head that counters her every thought with ideals of happiness and not just seeing the roses for their use, but enjoying their sight and smell as well
[ Weaknesses ] :: She holds next to no care for anyone other than herself, and is not entirely stable in the head. Her speed is not fantastic, and she also suffers terribly from a lack of ability to properly communicate her thoughts and emotions
[ Strengths] :: Storm is strong, has good stamina, and is intelligent. Her abilities to observe the commonly missed aid in keeping the pack aware of potential dangers
[ Talents ] :: Storm has a remarkably convincing stare that she gives that has made some of the bravest of wolves cower in fear
[ Habits ] :: Keeping herself apart from the pack and being "emotionless"


[ Crush ] :: Storm does not see the time for this sort of thing, but honestly.. Someone. Shadow.
[ Mate ] :: Storm has not found a male worth spreading her line with
[ Pups ] :: They do not exist, save for in the folly of her counter-head voice
[ Friends ] :: Storm sees making friends as a waste of her time, so she does not have any
[ Enemies ] :: Any who have dared to cross her


-----------------


[ Mother ] :: Kindle :: Deceased ~~ An Eastern Wolf, like her daughter. Kindle was the leader of Storm's birth pack, and raised her children to be tools of survival alongside her mate. Her heart only moved for her mate, but she felt nothing for the little bundles of fur that wasted too much time with romping around with games. She died in the battle of the Prairie, alongside the majority of her pack at the age of seven years
[ Father ] :: Tiger :: Deceased ~~ A grey wolf. Tiger was the leader of Storm's birth pack - called Rose Petals - and just as keen on survival as his mate. He was more lenient for his pups than his mate, but kept up a stern front whenever she was around. Tiger felt love for all those that were under his reign, but the strongest was for his family. Having led a pack of legends, he expected the same from his children. He died in the battle of the Prairie, alongside the majority of his pack at the age of eight years
[ Older Brother ] :: Adymn :: Alive ~~ Adymn was more of a grey wolf in appearance than he was eastern wolf. He was ambitious and did things on his own time and with his own reasons. Unlike his parents, Adymn held strong to a sense of righteousness, rather than survival. He grew up to be the father of many, and leads a pack of his own now - with the kindness that he rarely ever received as a pup. He is currently five years old
[ Older Brother ] :: Kye :: Deceased ~~ A male that was very much like his father, but had more of a prankster within him. Like Adymn, he was born in the first of the four litters that his parents had. He showed more eastern wolf in his appearance, but kept his large size from his father's side of the family. Kye lived a short three years before meeting his match in a brouhaha between his pack and a rival one
[ Older Sister ] :: Katima :: Deceased ~~ Storm's only older sister. She was the only survivor of the second litter that her parents had. Katima was a mirror image of her mother, but had her father's bright amber eyes. She was as cold and determined as her mother was, and met her own demise when she foolishly took on a rabid bear in battle. Though she was victorious, the disease drove her to insanity, and she would up walking right over the edge of a cliff at the age of three
[ Brother ] :: Gusty :: Deceased ~~ Gusty only lived to be six months old, but was the oldest of the third litter that was birthed to Tiger and Kindle. He would have looked like a balanced mix of his parents, if it had not been for an elder pack member who spotted that something was "off" about him and thus the execution of a weak link was made before the eyes of every member - including Gusty's sister, Storm
[ Younger Sister ] :: Jaznae :: Alive ~~ Fortunately for Jaz, she was born in a time where her parents had softened with age and were unable to be as vigorous with their training as before. She is compassionate and is within a pack where she has fallen for a handsome and intelligent male. Her appearance is a balanced mix of her two parents, but she remains more petite thanks to her mother's small stature. She is currently two years old
[ Younger Brother ] :: Jaimin :: Deceased ~~ Looking like his father, the two parents expected Jai to become the next leader. However, before that could happen, the intelligent young male met his demise in the battle of the Prairie. He was one and six months at the time


-----------------


[ History ] :: Eight months.

It was for the first eight months of her life that Storm of the Rose Petals listened in rapt silence to the stories of the endeavors and feats of the pack she was born in to. For six of those eight months. Her brother Dusty had been partner to these story sessions. But he was dead because he was not strong. They had been warned that they would not be treated specially just because their parents were the alphas. And so, because he had not heeded the warning, Dusty was dead. A hole sat in the young female's heart, left from the absence of her cheerful brother. But now she was eight months old. Father had trained her. She was ready.

Alongside her was her best friend and partner in everything she did - Cole. The two would be in the leading front in a border skirmish between the Rose Petal Pack and the Shadowed Grove Pack. The fight was magnificent. The Rose Petal Pack was easily crowned victor as they watched their enemies run away, whimpering with fear. Storm had never felt so exhilarated in her life. It was the. That she knew she was meant to be a warrior and defender for her pack. Her friend, Cole, too found his calling there (but truthfully, he would have fallowed Storm anywhere).

Storm and Cole were a dynamic duo. No wolves made it any further than a few meters within the borders when they were on patrol. It was the strength here that earned Storm and Cole their reputation among packs. Word spread quickly. Soon, there were very few lone wolves that would venture anywhere near the territory.

Storm took everything seriously. There was no time for her any longer to bother with playing. She was a yearling, and it was soon time to have her mate chosen for her. She would be expected to decide wheel their he was good for the line by the next winter. With things as calm as they were, patrols got boring, and the male chosen, an elder by four years whose name was Adam, was far from a knight in shining armor.

It was during one of the patrols that Storm expressed her exasperation to Cole. "What was he thinking?! Adam is more suited for being a gossip than a mate." Though she did not see it, Cole looked relieved.

Because he had not forgotten the promise that they had made after they first met. They had sworn to be partners in everything - even love. One might take his affection to be obligated, but it was hard to not be entranced by the gorgeous female as she sniffed at a white flower.

Storm denounced Adam, and the male was sentenced to death. That was when Cole made his move. They were a year and six months now, and he wanted Storm for himself.

It went better than he could have imagined. They were both so happy, that they forgot their placid masks as they returned to the den. Suspicious, Tiger had Cole subject to torture until he admitted what they had done. There was a blur, and the handsome black male had fallen lifelessly to the ground.

Storm was banished with words that would haunt her forever.

"You are not worthy of being my daughter or of living in the Rose Petal Pack any longer. You have until sundown. If you are found after that, you are to be treated as prey."

Storm had never ran so fast in all of her life.

Exile.

It was far less attractive than any story than a loner could have made it sound. The flaws were endless. Storm wandered and battled for the entirety of autumn and winter. It hardened her to the point that death was like hunting. It made no difference to her who died and who lived. Many beings - prey and predator - laid dead by spring.

Word of her and her "power" spread faster than a wildfire. She was, to the legends, "a brazen female the size of a great oak tree and had a snarl that made even mountains shudder with fear."Honestly, the stories were some of the only things that made her laugh. They were so endlessly barbaric that Storm would stop by a pack just to listen to gossip.

But of course, Storm was (and still is) a small wolf in stature, and it is really her glare that strikes fear into the hearts of many. The life of a loner suited her well, because she did not have to live by anyone's rules, and there was no one to drag her down. She was methodical and cold - everything served a purpose - and a purpose was generally to make her stronger and better suited for survival.

She did not care that the pups, fathered by Cole, were born dead in the dead of winter. She was glad, actually. Glad that her travels were not halted because the rodents needed care. Nothing broke her. Injuries, hunger - through it all, she forged forward like a charging rhino. There was zero room for weakness.

It was her focused mentality that was in place as she stalked a jack rabbit. It darted away with a sprint faster than she could muster, and she soon found that she was surrounded by seven large wolves.

The seven were magnificent creatures. Storm had not seen any wolves so powerful since she had been sent away. They easily had six inches on her, and the largest (clearly the leader) looked thoroughly unimpressed at the sight of her.

"How may I help you?" she questioned nonchalantly. They were nothing to her - well, that was a lie. Her blood drummed in her ears. This might actually be a challenge for once! She had trained one wolf to be like her - a male by the name of Lanax, but he had departed and Storm did not feel the loss of him.

"Just who do you think you are, young lady?" demanded the large male as he stepped forward. "You've caused quite a bit of discord among our kind, Storm of the Rose Peta-"

"Actually, I am not of their ranks any longer. I was banished. And if you knew who I am, why bother asking?" Storm held her head high. They were worthless. Her ears flicked endlessly to hunt for any slight sounds of movement. This male's lackeys were eager to fight. The tension screamed it beautifully. She snickered cruelly. Males never changed.

"Either way, miss Lone Storm, wolves no longer feel comfortable with you around. You're killing your own kind -"

"Because they are weak."

The male ignored her and continued on as if he was never interrupted. "as though you're a god - and that is unacceptable." His grey eyes were narrowed in Storm's direction.

Storm, however, only shrugged. She figured that they could talk all that they wanted. No one knew what she really looked like - all the stories told that she was the color of fire, and that the earth died at her paws. They told of a giant, when she was clearly not. "I do so hope to pass, now that you have made me lose my lunch and taken my time," she grumbled before stepping deftly forward to avoid the lunge of the male to her right.

By this point, Storm's anger was venom in her veins. She would lash out at the next unwanted behavior - and it came.

"That runt needs to be taken into custody!" cried one of the males. Storm turned on him and quickly had him pinned. He, surprisingly, put up quite a fight. A long gash rolled down her cheek afterwards, and Storm decided that she absolutely despised that sleek black male.Too bad she thought. He would have made a good breeding partner.

"Lone Storm," the male's voice sounded so different now. He looked so serious that Storm listened as though he was the only thing in the world. "We of the Thrylikó Mountain hereby take you into out custody until you can show that you are a civilized being and capable of living in the world without being a monster. Herd her up, boys."

It was impossible to mistake the satisfied grunts of the males. Apparently, she had gone from being legend to being a lowly outcast to whatever this pack was. The six herded around her and followed the lead of the leader male. It was next to no time before the hills shifted to a rocky terrain where the grass was rougher.

In the clearing was at least thirty wolves. Storm had never seen so many in her life - ever.

The six dispersed at the wave of the leader's tail. "My name is Lea, but I expect to be addressed as "Master" by you. You are a shadow to the pack. Members will only speak with you to give you orders and you are to obey them without hesitation. Understand?"

Lea did not give Storm time to respond. He was off to a perch to the west of the clearing. Storm glared after him and glared at every wolf there.

She hated the Thrylikó.
So here she is.


God this form took hours.

~Sorry, I don't think I'm literate enough for 2. ~