*Weaver's Wars* Literate Wolf Role play. Accepting!

[Muggafinn]

(Ah well, I hoped for some new members, bump)

[Muggafinn]

bump

[Muggafinn]

Bump

[Muggafinn]

bump...

[iomedae]

Ravyn sighed and streached. Her beautiful coat shimmered in the sunlight. She looked around. Was she the onlyy female in the pack? She wondered where everyone else went.

[Muggafinn]

Fyat sat back with a wide yawn, rolling his shoulders under his fur. It had been a long night, lots of careful planning to make sure that the Huru wolves didn't know they were here. A thin messanger with fur the color of dust had arrived yesterday, bringing news of some of the other Wolven realms, but there really wasn't much to hear other than the usual "Lord Atar wants to take control of Lady Slmi's river." More petty Weaver's feuds. His pack, if he could ever get it off the ground, would most certainly be more than that, bigger, better, and braver, though it would be a whole lot easier, he thought bitterly, if they had more than three wolves. The Huru pack had allies, and their leaders was counted one of the wisest on the Earth, surely she had sensed them already? He got up again, pacing nervously through the camp. "Hello Ravyn." He said, "You have not seen any loners around, have you?"

[Muggafinn]

((bump))

[Muggafinn]

((Bump))

[ᴄᴀʀʀᴏᴛᴄᴀᴋᴇ.]

Buro walked back to camp with mud in his fur. He shook it out and dipped his head to Fyat and Ravyn. "How are you two today?" His looked calmly at them and flicked his ears. It was a nice day today, and the sun shone brightly. He smiled and sat down to wash his paws.

Tria yawned and curled up to rest. She remembered the wobbling tree, and she smiled. The land would no longer be dry and dead, instead it would be lucsious and full. She would enjoy this. And she had gotten the right thing, and Ara and brought the rain. She wasn't a failure. Yay!

[Solanum]

Username*:
Tesshin
Wolf's Name*:
Viho
Description*:
He is smaller than the average wolf, and quite a bit less muscular, but don't let that fool you, he has razor sharp fangs hidden under a black/dark grey muzzle. Black/Dark grey patches cover blind eyes, a cresent moon just behind it on his left side. His chest and underbelly are a lighter grey, although the colour is quite faded. The underside of his tail is the same black/dark grey colour as the other markings, as are all four paws and the patch from the top of his head to his shoulder. He has four small cresent moons running down his upper foreleg on both sides, three cresent moons, decreasing in size from largest to smallest, on his upper back legs once again both sides. Finally he has a large, once again dark grey/black, cresent moon on his upper half of his tail. It covers the whole top, so only half is visible at a time. He has a long cut across his nose, limiting his sense of smell.
Just to provide a picture as well. In case my description is so confusing that you fall down dead.
Personality*:
No matter what anyone says about him, he is a nice guy. Pleasant to be around, kind, caring and patient. He had quite a sad past, to him, and so doesn't like to be on his own for too long, this can annoy some as he sometimes clings to others. Although if others are concerned, he can act out of aggression, although he prefers to just talk his way out of it rather than actually physically fight the other.
History:
He was born on a stormy day, in a stone den by a mountain in a litter of 3. His younger brother died within the first few hours, leaving only two, his sister and him. He had a happy puphood, good friends, a loving family. But it all changed when he officially became an adult. He'll never forget that fateful day...
His father banished him from the pack, no one is really sure why. He was forced to go it alone from then on. During his youth, he had been taught how to survive in the wild when on your own, now he understood why they had taught him that. They had known from the beginning that he wasn't going to stay... And they didn't once try and warn him. He hated them all for that...
He spent the next year completely alone, no contact with others. He grew feral, a true wolf by nature and by looks. He grew in strength, able to bring down strong bucks with no assistance from others, much to his own surprise. He had realised that all the only one he needed to rely on, to live, was himself. He didn't need anyone else. That wasn't his first mistake, nor his last.
Pack*:
Huru
Rank*:
Second in command? If not then normal hunter/warrior would be fine.
Age*:
4 human years
Mate:
None, although he wouldn't mind one
Pups:
None