the end - literate wolf roleplay - open

[|~Nevermore~|]

Aimée ; healer ; fae ; saf ; single.

She always woke before dawn. Not too long before the sun's tongue licked at the horizon though, just a few minutes. When she woke, Aimée stood up and stretched, her unseeing eyes lightly closed. She stood in her den, facing just to the left of the entrance and yawned.

Letting the sweet melody of the forest guide her, Aimée left her den. She sat down gently in front of it, and began to clean up. She could feel the rising sun grace her pelt. At first, it provided very little warmth, but slowly it warmed her cloudy fur.

Aimée's long pelt was very light and thin. The slightest breeze or hint of movement gave it cause to dance and play around her. It often tangled, leading her to have to groom it often. She led her tongue, smooth as lace, over her silky fur. There was one tuft at the base of her tail that was always forgotten, missed, or simply wouldn't stay down and usually stuck out in crazy ways.

She sat down in camp, smelling all of the wolves around her, with Caleb of course having the strongest scent. Aimée sat quietly as she always did, her mind flying and whirling around like a robin whom had just learned how to fly. In a way, she was that robin, but in many ways she was not. Her mind raced like wildfire, thinking about Coda, her old mate and her son, Atticus. She worried about Atticus sometimes, and how often he was somber, but she knew he would come out of it.

Padding towards the scent of the other wolves, Aimée spoke. It was her usual quiet whisper, and it barely carried above the sounds of the forest. "May I have an escort?"She murmured quietly, as if she would wake the dead with her smooth voice. "I need to gather some herbs." It wasn't often that Aimée gathered herbs with an escort, but with the other pack so hostile she wasn't going to take a chance. Even if she wasn't blind, Aimée was no great warrior.

[spiff]

F E Y

don’t touch me.
don’t you dare touch me.

___________________________________

female ❖ three ❖ single ❖ huntress ❖ gaddar

“We’re going to hunt. And see if we can pick up any Saf wolves while we’re at it.”

So, hunting, thought Fey, for both prey and other wolves. The distaste that was so clear in Medieval’s voice was likely bred into him by generations of hate for the Saf wolves, but Fey felt no such passion for the feud between the two rival packs. She was irreversibly caught up in it now, sure -- had been, in fact, since she was born because of the forbidden love that had conceived her -- but up until a few months ago she would have laughed if anyone had told her she would eventually join the Gaddar pack. Growing up among stories that came from wolves who had come from both of them, acting as if they would remain loners forever, they had been nothing more than that: stories. But here she was now, living and breathing the very same memories that had belonged to her predecessors, and her former life was slipping away from her, little by little.

Fey nodded at Medieval’s command, irritation that no one else would have understood -- that she didn’t entirely understand -- biting into her. She should be thankful that her alpha had chosen to spare her today – although the look in his eyes suggested that others would not be so lucky – but all the same, the attention she had gotten hunting for her family was something she found herself desiring, much to her own surprise. Although she had accepted her parents’ lavish praise with modesty, perhaps she had, in truth, looked forward to it each time she brought food back for the family. With a sudden pang, she realized she would never hear anything like that spoken to her again. Then she pushed the sudden flow of emotions away with a mental shove more desperate than anything else. It would do no good to have her feelings eating away at the strong, logic-fueled core she had worked so hard to build from the ground up as she struggled to fit in with these unrelenting wolves, at the same time going against all her mother and father had believed in and taught her to do so long ago. They were relics of a life best left alone until it was buried and forgotten and would only corrode her to a point where she would no longer be able to hold up against all the things demanded of her, and the last thing she needed was to show weakness in front of the Gaddar pack. Love was something she had decided to banish from her body long ago, but sorrow would be more difficult. Infinitely more so was the guilt she felt she was drowning in each night. It was definitely time to cut those out of her life, but the question was how she could go about doing so when this was precisely what she had been trying to accomplish all this time, only to fall short each time they plagued her heart.

Thankfully, Fey’s observant eye had picked up which wolves slept in which dens; it would be rather embarrassing if she woke up someone with the wrong name. She approached Amari’s den with confident footfalls, running through what she knew of the other wolf as she did so. Fellow huntress. Unafraid of speaking her mind. Strong. Undoubtedly able to care for herself. “Amari?” she called as she peered into the gloom.

[king_bear]

bronnwen - fighter - gaddar - with fay, flynn, aimee and medieval
Bronn felt the atmosphere grow heavier as everyone waited for the alpha's command, their hearts skipping a beat from stress, the only thought in their heads: "please, don't let it be me today..." and the tension in their bodies. When the final words were spoken, all suddenly detensioned from relief, and she felt a unsounded sigh going through all of the lower-rank wolves. They all knew their alpha could suddenly snap out, sometimes with even death as a result. But not today, apparently.
Hunting? Was that all Bronnwen was good for these days? She hated the taste of deer's blood, of rabbit's flesh, of the fox's fur. She had never been a great fan of eating, and she had always stayed skinnier than she should have been, but getting her own food? That wasn't anything for Bronnwen.

Hunting reminded her of the days when her parents were still considerably alive, of the days when she was a black sheep of the family, when she sneaked out at night to try out new fighting moves on foxes, rabbits and deer. She despised these days. She despised the things that had kept her busy these days. She despised her life these days, and kept herself away from every conflict that helped her remember.
In her eyes, the only thing that she'd done right in those times, was killing her family. They didn't deserve better.

That is why she wasn't found too enthusiastic about the whole hunting-thing this day. Hunting was beneath her level, and she didn't join this pack to run after some bunnies to eat them. She growled softly, pointed her angry face to each and every one of the present wolves - yes, including Medieval - and turned around. She marched away, all her muscles tensed and with suddenly a very bad mood.

[wishes.]

______________________________
male-five-single and crushless-hunter-saf-

ｎａｍｅ;; "My name is Louhka, simply pronounced as "Loka". My name has no origin or meaning, but it sure seems like it does at times. Neither my mother nor father ever said anything about it having meaning."

ｇｅｎｄｅｒ;; "I'm a male; can't you tell? I do see a pair of eyes, ears, and a nose on you.. Use them next time!"

ｐａｃｋ;; "I'm in the Saf pack, always have been, always will be. Nothing will change my loyalty to my pack."

ｒａｎｋ;; "I have achieved the rank of a hunter. I take my job very seriously, as I've already had a near miss at being downranked by Caleb, when I was being foolish... Never mind, those days are over. I would just love to be the head hunter, telling the other hunters where to hunt, what to hunt and... I can just imagine it now!"

ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ;; "Who am I? Well, thats not really the question you usually ask yourself, is it now.. To describe myself and who I am, would be like trying to find that needle in the haystack, because I'm always changing. Moody would be the word for it, but why would anyone call themselves 'moody?' Nobody really wants that title. But it is my title, and I'm quite frankly stuck with it.
So I'm moody. My emotions are constantly changing; one minute I'll be cheerful and positive, helping others out, looking at life as if the glass was 'half full'. But then, something changes, and I'll be snapping and snarling, extremely antisocial and rude, and looking at life as 'half empty'. I can't really explain it.. None of my ancestors had this problem.
I also have very mixed emotions about everything. I don't know whether to be excited or annoyed, grumpy or pleased... this is a wip.

ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ;; My background is very boring. Nothing great has happened, nothing life-changing or heart-stopping events have occured

ｆａｍｉｌｙ;; *are they in the pack, if dead how did they die, mate and pups go here as well*

ｃｒｕｓｈ;; *are they from the pack, what do they think of them, why do they like them, do they like them back*

ｏｔｈｅｒ;; I know the picture shows very little of this wolf, so here is his basic description.
Louhka is a pure, snowy white, as white as the snow that falls in winter, except for flecks of stone-grey hairs that cover his ears, reach down to his forehead, and then fade off at his brow and down his cheeks.

this is a wip, not nearly finished. I hope this is okay so far. }}

[Banter.]

(( @ Nevermore - Hana would go with Aimee, if you like. I'm going to wait until tomorrow to post though, so that yakamoz doesn't get too behind ^^ ))

[spiff]

((This will probably be my last post as well. I’m drained, but it felt good to get all that muse out of the way.))

K E E G A N

i’m always looking for something more.
you could call it a never-ending quest.

___________________________________

male ❖ three ❖ single ❖ fighter ❖ saf

They were all around him, the faces of his dead family members. As he looked at them, he saw that their faces were connected to their torsos, which in turn led to their legs, and he found that they were all floating on nothing. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head fiercely, willing the head-spinning vertigo to dispel. Accusation shone from the eyes that had once looked at him with so much love, drilling holes into him until he was sure he couldn’t bear the pain. “It wasn’t my fault,” he pleaded, desperate for them to just understand. “I didn’t want to leave you, but you told us to run. I thought it was what you would have wanted us to do…” His voice broke, his pathetic words faltered, and he braced himself as the inevitable onslaught of words came from their mouths, raining horrible, hate-filled words snarled out of spite and disgust at this coward, this coward who had fled and survived because he was a selfish, worthless wolf who didn’t deserve to live, didn’t deserve anything…

Keegan’s eyes did not fly open. He did not sit bolt upright, breathing hard as he regained his bearings and slowly realized it had all just been a dream. Rather, he slowly opened his eyes, feeling as if a great weight was pushing against him as he did so. It was with a weariness that he sat up, the way he cast his eyes about was tired, as if this was something he had gone through many times before. Indeed, the nightmare had plagued him in the weeks following his family’s demise. It had ceased as he managed to cope with the loss, but he knew it would stay with him to the end of his days. It wasn’t something to be surprised over. He knew it was just the survivor’s guilt that was speaking to him, and though he knew it was never real, sometimes a part of him still wondered…

He banished the doubts forcefully. There was no use in dwelling in the past. It would only ensnare him, trap him in a reality that would make him waste away as he wished he could have changed it all, and that wishing would lead to his ultimate downfall. No, thought Keegan, shaking his head. He would not allow that. He tried a few smiles, something that sounded rather silly in theory but worked surprisingly well for him, until they stopped feeling forced and started coming more easily to his face, feeling more genuine. If he could fool himself, he could fool his packmates.

He strode outside, squinting in the daylight that suddenly flooded his vision. Left to his own devices and without the sun to wake him, he often slept later than many of the other wolves, but they never seemed to have much of a problem with it. No doubt the Gaddar pack was stricter about this kind of thing. Certainly, Keegan had been fortunate to have the sense of mind to remember his parents’ words to him about the two packs. He had been panicked when he ran, not daring to look over his shoulder as he tore blindly through the forest, but not enough so that he didn’t have a plan in mind when he came across pack territory.

Unwilling to wallow in his own thoughts any longer, the striking young wolf surveyed his new home as he searched for someone to do a border patrol with.

[apathy,]

{ i'll try to post soon, but i must say, you aren't allowed to use font meme. any more because tess says it counts as spam... }

[Malédiction]

{Yes, that is true. It's almost like posting a picture every post. But for forms you are still allowed. I will reply tomorrow, I have lost my mused for today. I still have a couple forms to fill out, this is going to take so long.}

[Guest]

major wip. don't even look at this.

you can see it in her pride
and the raven in her eyes.
______________________________
female; two years; fighter;

ｎａｍｅ;; jezebel, pronounced jez / uh / bell. she likes her full name best, but she'll take bel or bells on occasion. the meaning of the name jezebel is "pure; virginal" and it is of hebrew origin.

ｇｅｎｄｅｒ;; female.

ｐａｃｋ;; jezebel is certainly not pack born. she is in the saf pack.

ｒａｎｋ;; she doesn't care what rank she gets; she's most comfortable in her role as a fighter, though.

ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ;; *at least one big paragraph*

ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ;; *at least two paragraphs, if they are pack born and don't have an interesting background I'll understand less*

ｆａｍｉｌｙ;; *are they in the pack, if dead how did they die, mate and pups go here as well*

ｃｒｕｓｈ;; *are they from the pack, what do they think of them, why do they like them, do they like them back*

ｏｔｈｅｒ;; *anything else*

[apathy,]

ＶＩＨＡＮ

male • four • mate-less • hunter • gaddar
▬▬▬▬▬ ▣ ▣ ▣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▣ ▣ ▣ ▬▬▬▬▬

Vihan lurked in the background, his eyes darting back and forth between the other wolves; his head and tail was lowered, showing the obvious respect towards the other wolves of the pack. He was heeding to everything they were saying, his ears were perked up in notice, but not being attentive to what they were saying, but nonetheless, he looked like he was hanging off to every word they were saying.

Heaving himself towards the edge of the pack, his eyes searching each and every wolf; their current stance,
[wip sorry, i've got to finish this form]