ｍｉｄｎｉｇｈｔ & ｍｏｏｎｌｉｔ| ˢᵉᵐᶤ ˡᶤᵗ ʷᵒˡᶠ ʳᵖ

[windsorblue17]

D a w s o n >> M a l e >> M i d n i g h t >> B e t a

D e s c r i p t i o n >> Dawson towers above most wolves, male and female. Ever since birth, he was the biggest (and clumsiest) of his litter. His big paws always seemed to get in the way; more against him than with him. His Father knew his strengths and weaknesses from the beginning, so growing up he practiced with the fighters and guards. Although he never really did grow into his paws, he did grow into his broad shoulders, proud chest, and immense strength. His jaws are his main weapon- his snout short and strong. Dawson has teeth that are more dull than they are sharp, so blunt force trauma forces the life out of any prey or enemy that comes his way. His build is now thick and juicy, perfect for any physical feat that comes his way. Unless, or course the physical feat is running. Then you'll have to look behind your shoulder to see Dawson tripping over his own two feet.

Dawson has dull, sepia eyes to match his dual-toned coat. His undercoat is a muted honey that often emerges from patches of clouded grey. His colors could be described similarly to an old photo you dig out of your great-grandmothers closet. His coat is thick, perfect for the wintertime. Harsh cold is almost never a problem for him, the threat to him is overwhelming heat. In the summertime he sheds a lot, leaving a trail of fur, well, everywhere. Whenever a patch of fur dislodged from him, you can hear him audibly grunt, or scoff, of whatever sound of annoyance he pushes out of his snout. Overall, his maximized appearance could be potentially threatening, but his warm golden tones seep into his personality and make it not so.


P e r s o n a l i t y >>
Fatherly >> Dawson's Father, Falcon, was such an inspirational figure in his life. His Father treated everyone like his children, but saved his most special moments for his actual children. He nurtured them, taught them and brought them up to be fantastic individuals. He took their strengths and weaknesses and altered them in ways that made them comfortable with themselves. When he was down, Falcon would find a way to help him find a solution to the problem, all while making him feel better about himself. Dawson looked up to his father with beaming eyes, hoping to one day be like him. To this day, he strives to be just like Falcon, and most would say he did a damn good job.
Caring >> Dawson cares about everything. This is one of his most concealed traits, however, and for a good reason at that. Being vulnerable is his weakness. Meaning if you are vulnerable, you will be shown mercy- whether you're asking for it or not. No matter how much he tries to fight it, his caring heart takes over him at the most inappropriate times. He could be starving, withering with malnourishment, but if someone just as starving asks for his scrap of meat, take a wild guess who's going to get it.
Constructive >> This trait pairs up with his ability to observe. Dawson has a little knowledge in just about everything. He'll observe you and your technique down to the very bone. He doesn't do it in a mean way, of course, it's just something he does. Sometimes it makes him come off as a know-it-all, even though that's the exact opposite of what he means. He truly strives to help his pack in the most ways possible, so if you're hunting a mouse, and he notices your stepping too heavily, he'll take you aside and let you know what you're doing.
Numb on the battlefield >> In an actual battle, Dawson is numb. It's like his heart stops beating. He is violent and full of rage, tearing at the throats of opposing members. It's like he transforms into a completely different being. The first time you see him battle, there is a likely chance you will cower in fear at the lack of mercy in his eyes. Once the battle is over, his side usually emerges victorious, the aftermath of his takeover overcomes him. Usually he is able to suppress the feelings. But, his golden warmth is frozen over into a treacherous plethora of guilt. Sometimes he looses his touch with reality, eyes glazed over, trapped in his version of hell- his own mind. He doesn't want to go numb. It just happens. It's for the best, he knows. But sometimes he wonders if that is true.

H i s t o r y >>Yes, Dawson's childhood is one of fresh duck and adult praise. Compared to a lot of other wolves, he is extremely spoiled. He was born as the Alpha Pairs offspring, along with three other brothers. In a normal setting you could see this as a terrible way to grow up, all battling for the Alpha rank, but that wasn't the case at all. His Father basically chose his successor when the pups were but a few months old. It was Chase, the most skilled of the bunch. Dawson reassured himself he was Falcon's second choice. One of his siblings, Terroja grew green with jealousy and ended up breaking away from the pack at an extremely young age. Thus was left Dawson and Parker the only neutral ones of the bunch.

Yet, they were far from neutral. Why, they were the Alpha's offspring! The pack treated them like nothing less than royalty. Dawson was showered in praise, and told that he was kind, mature, and loving by the older ones. He was allowed to go patrolling with the lead guard at an extremely young age, and he wasn't bad at it either. He even scented a wolf in a corner that none of the adults could reach, and to this day that will remain he most treasured memory. He never would have dreamt of leaving the pack, but sure enough, when he was old enough, he broke away. Not because he was angry with anyone, or because he was exiled. He simply wanted to explore the world, meet new people, find a mate. Someday he will surely go back to his old pack and he knows with a happy heart he will be welcomed with open arms.

(( Here is my form. ))

[love lucy]

it's lovely, i'll see to the rank.

[windsorblue17]

(( Thank you. c: ))

[love lucy]

the person's not joining, so it's all yours. will update front page. I believe we have enough role-players to start posting.

[windsorblue17]

(( Okay, I'll start the Midnight Pack off. ))

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☾

☽

D a w s o n >> M a l e >> M i d n i g h t >> B e t a

✗

Dawson was lured out of sleep by the end of the dream. A wave of reality crashed over him, and he wearily blinked the sleep from his eyes. A brisk wind wandered into his large den, causing a shiver to go up his spine. Standing up, he observed the conditions of the forest in front of him. A thick layer of fog had settled in the forest in the duration of the night. He scurried over to the kill pile, which was lacking. It had been foggy for this whole week, making it difficult to hunt. He selected the midsection of a squirrel from the pile and began to devour his breakfast. Squirrel is not very filling, but really tasty, exactly what the Beta needed. He heard footsteps behind him, and was happy to see another wolf awake. "Good morning," he barked.

[love lucy]

e p o n i n e

_________
MIDNIGHT PACK
LEAD HUNTER
NO CRUSH TO SAY
FEELING ALRIGHT
_________

It was a beautiful blooming morning after the last couple of days. The snow no longer took glee in ambush, and so kept calm for the rest of the days as one season made the transfer to another. What had been frozen into immortal beauty during the last past cold months now returned to claim former beauty, and so demonstrate to new organisms the radiance they've kept all along, due to the magnificence of nature, best tell, evolution.

Glancing around with almost newborn eyes at the sun's warmth, Nine shook her white pelt and took a step away from the hot, comfortable mess that was her den. At first the sharp rays hurt, and her paws protested at the bare contact with the growing cold muddied earth, but she dismissed the idea, and remembered her main purpose of this outing. Food was running scarce, and she had to organize a hunt soon. Food was hard to come by, nowadays, and so the small female hunter furrowed her pretty little face over that fact. Given the last time the pack had eaten, and how easily wolves were going thin, it was a clear call for aid.

Sighing, the female felt herself taking another breath, her lungs complaining over the sharp intake of the still freezing air temperature. Every winter it was like this; crawling out of a den for the first time. Senses discovering what it is to feel. And golly, was it tedious. At least the fact of having to take in all the changes at once made her groan slightly. This was going to be a very very long day. Just when she really opened her eyes on the way to the kill pile, she saw the beta male, greeting her. Good morning, Nine replied, still in the thin borderline of sleep and alertness.

[love lucy]

t a l e k o v
________
MIDNIGHT PACK
ALPHA MALE
NOT CRUSHING
READY TO GO
________

The alpha brute stretched his limbs and yawned in a non-tired way. He was ready to take the bull by the horns and turn it over, his brain already sizzling with thinking. Talekov had always been like this; a morning wolf. No reason, but he loved waking up early to take at most what he could of the day, no matter the weather or conditions. It was always fun to wake up to find snow. Today, even though it was melting, he liked the feeling of it underneath his paws, and the way he sank where the ground was going softer. With the soft flick of his ears, he looked up at the radiant sun and smiled, liking that finally, after such a long time, he could see the sun again. It was something to smile for, yes.

With one more stretch, Talekov took off to his usual morning patrol routine, where he checked up in the borders and made sure to keep the Moonlit n check. More than in one occasion had they come close to crossing, or actually stealing hares from their side. Obviously, when he went to fight over what he claimed, thing always ended up in a tight close war.

[windsorblue17]

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☾

☽

D a w s o n >> M a l e >> M i d n i g h t >> B e t a

✗

"There's not much there," he said with disappointment, noticing Nine heading to the kill pile. He sat next to the small fae and began making a pile of leaves with his feet. Fluffing his pelt, his eyes darted over to her. "We've got to organize a hunt soon," he said frankly. Nine let out a huge sigh, and a pang of guilt flushed through him. As if she didn't already now that, his internal voice snapped. He wrinkled his nose, forcing what he had just said out of his mind. The call of a hawk echoed throughout the forest, and Dawson quickly flicked his head up towards the tops of the trees, looking for the creature. Sure enough, a hawk's silhouette stood boldly against the rising sun. Mornings were definitely not Dawson's favorite time of the day- he much preferred the zen atmosphere that was the transition from day to night. The sun would sink down into the earth, the moon rising to take it's place. A smile spread across the brute's lips at the thought of it. Another cool rush of wind pulled him back to reality. It was morning, and it was time to face the day. His head pivoted back to the kill pile once again, and he imagined a fresh elk sitting there by nightfall.

[Cyphron]

White Fang

Life-✬-And-ღ-Love-✬-Is-ღ-A-✬-Warzone

I am~ "Wandering among the forest."
My current emotion~ "Apathetic."
My relationship status~ "Single I believe."

Cold whisps of air rustled the stealthily brute's pelt as he move quietly among the forest, weaving through the trees and sticking to shadows away from notice. The rogue was aware of the fact that he was close to pack territory, though like he always does he stood close to the border line, not crossing it into the pack's territory but staying in no man's land. The wind was not in his favor and was blowing his scent down towards the pack wolves, which in White Fang's calculation knew that they would pick it up soon and invesitage. Though since he never crossed over the border his scent would only be faint and difficult to track. With hollow eyes he scanned the trees ahead of him that laid on forbbiden land. He was aware of the consequences if he passed the borderline and he was going to respect the pack wolves if they returned the favor.

Lowering his head close to the ground his body followed, lightly grazing the ground with his belly fur. He eyed the borderline, knowing the risk of trespassing into forbbiden land and somehow he knew he couldn't pull his usual stunts. With the herd of deer he had followed a season ago moving into the pack's territory, White Fang was aware that he wouldn't last long unless he got some food soon. Prey hardly ever stood long it no man's land and most of it was over the borderline and the brute had never crossed over to pack territory in his entire life and he wasn't going to start now. So it was all up to his decision, cross and hope for the best, or abort and carry on in no man's land; hoping for some prey to turn up. Chuckling lightly to himself, the large brute shook his head knowing that none of those options would ever work. Rising up to his full height he slunk deeper into the shadows and stayed put just a few aways from the borderline. Watching and waiting. Ears twitching the brute froze when he heard a twig snap and his eyes traveled towards the bushes right in the middle of line. A rabbit stood close to bushes before crossing over the line into his territory. Chest rumbling quietly he stalked forward with his body low to the ground in a hunting crouch. He wasn't going to lose this meal, it wasn't in his plans. Muscles tense and eyes narrowed White Fang took another step, halting to observe the rabbit before leaping.

The rabbit ran and the multi-colored wolf gave pursuit, paws quietly hitting against the ground as he weaved through the trees. Leaping over a bush he swayed into the rabbit' path and slid sideways with his hind legs before his jaws snapped around the prey's neck. Rabbit squirming in his grasp he bit down hard and waited before the ball of fur fell limp. Smirking lightly in satisfaction the brute shook his pelt and trotted off back towards his den that was a good distance from the pack, about a quarter mile. Slinking back into the shadows he moved quietly with precise steps, his paws making no sound as he moved with agility and stride. Following the familiar path his ears and eyes remained alert for any other loners as he continued on walking with his prey held tightly in his jaws.

[love lucy]

t a l e k o v
________
MIDNIGHT PACK
ALPHA MALE
NOT CRUSHING
READY TO GO
________

Quite nice the day was for now, as he silently padded through the thick green scenery, glancing into the ever greener canopy. Peaks of blue could be seen when the trees were not as old as the earth itself, and that was hard to come by, since the woods were so alive that even the sun refused to come through completely. Patches of mud here and there. It simply made it easier to spot prey. Yet, there was nothing to be seen. In this parts of the woods, the trees caused the wind to split and flow in different directions, all in tiny whispers. Not the long strong howl from a prairie. Yes, for Telekov the woods were a peaceful place where he could just give his thinking space. It was one of the main reasons why he loved Midnight territory so much. The security and ease he felt here were incomparable with anything else. This is the reason why he is currently on a morning patrol. To set his mind at ease.

His paws sunk on the softer ground, and he looked up once in a while, expecting to see the rising birds with their songs. With a steady pace the alpha male settled for going along the borders, checking t see that everything was kept in place. Up to now the day was wonderful and the sun was shinning brightly, like his good humor and mood. The wind grew brusque, now that he was nearing a more open area. And just with it a growl escaped his throat.

With a few seconds, the hint of a wolf had come by. It was just a whiff, but Talekov had caught the scent, and he didn't like it. The wolf didn't seem from Moonlit, so Talekov assumed it was a loner. In his territory. Eating his food. With this thought another throaty growl escaped his lips before he quickened his pace into a run, trying to catch the scent again. His heart raced too, for he was running along the borders now, ears lowered to his skull. The boulders that marked the start of the unclaimed land were already in view, but he saw no one. Just yet. As far as anyone else could see, Talekov was a black blur, running into the unknown. His coat ruffled when he was now openly exposed, and different shades of russet burned through, shifting as he extended his muscles and sped off. However, in the exact moment when he was going to leave his own pack land, the brute stopped and huffed in anger. He was not going to jump into what for him was real wilderness. Let alone alone. So giving a frustrated sigh, he barked angrily before trying to catch his breathe back.