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[~Shy~]

Um, Sheath i guess?

[rottenmutt]

added, I want more members in Niria and Sheath before we start.;o;

And maybe one or two more in the traitors group.:3

[rottenmutt]

(i could do with four characters ^^ I will add a female in Traitors, and a male in Niria)

Alright.c:

[obiole]

sorry for not having a form up, can't code as well as i could. so i'll copy and past pheaca's form and make a new brute form in a little bit, if i can code properly. and i'll have a reply up in a minute. c;

[rottenmutt]

sorry for not having a form up, can't code as well as i could. so i'll copy and past pheaca's form and make a new brute form in a little bit, if i can code properly. and i'll have a reply up in a minute. c;

I'll do coding if oyu need, but just let me know.>u<

[karasu,]

the basics
Name: I am Jace
Age: About 2 years
Gender: I am male
Rank: Subordinates
Pack: Niria

a little deeper
Personality: Well, I guess you can call me serious.
Im never caught laughing and its always been like that. Its hard for me to open up and deal with emotions so I have just cut it off. I don't trust a lot of people and I never have. I am obedient and will do anything without questions really.
History:
My mom dies while giving birth. My siblings died of cold after and they never opened there eyes to see the light of day. I was the only one to survive. My dad decided to stay which was weird. He taught me that pain was weakness leaving the body. He taught me to never back down. He made me who I am and taught me that to love was a weakness.

[rottenmutt]

Adding everything now.c:

[karasu,]

((Yay cant wait to start c:))

[rottenmutt]

bump.

Think we will start soon.c:

[Cakewalk]

"ι jυѕт cαɴ'т тαĸe ɴo pleαѕυre ιɴ ĸιllιɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ᴅᴏ...
ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ."

What's your name, Son?
"The name's Maike. It's not too hard of a thing to
remember. In fact, it's as if my mother decided on the
most common wore to assign to me. Maike.
There's no creativity to that, but I think she meant well.
After all, it's spelled a bit different from the actual word
make, and it does have a meaning, just not a great
one. It means bitter in German. On top of that, the
name is meant for females. Yeah, I don't know what
my mother was thinking. She had some strange
thoughts. But it's not a name that makes the wolf.
That's what I've learned. You have to make a name
for yourself. My name does not define me."

You look young. How old are you?
"Just starting off with questions, hm? Well, I have
walked his earth for six long years, filled with joyful
and lugubrious moments. I won't complain, though.
There is always someone who has had it worse than you,
and I like to keep that in mind. It's a humbling thought
and one that has allowed me to keep going for these
six years. I plan to live far longer than I already have,
though being six as a wolf, some have already started
tossing around the word 'old.' Honestly, I prefer
experienced. Younger wolves don't know as much as
what's in this head of mine."

What are you, exactly?
"My mother was a lovely gray wolf who came from
Northern Alaska. My father was a German wolf,
who had escaped from captivity, which makes me
something in between. The humans would still call
me a gray wolf, but I look a bit different than those
here in America. Bigger ears, longer legs, and a
bit fluffier. But we're mostly the same."

Just how big ARE you?
"My father was a beast of wolf, something like thirty
two inches. My mother was smaller and sleeker
because of her ancestry, standing at twenty six
inches. I'm in between and am something like thirty
inches tall. I weigh ninety pounds, but most of
that's muscle. Strangely enough, I got the large
ears, thicker fur, and longer legs from my father,
and the shepherd-like pelt, gold eyes, and short
tail from my mother."

Meet Maike. If you ever needed to describe him in three words, those three words would be reputable, judicious, and observant. Those are the three qualities that most wolves find right of the bat and pass him off as an old weakling. He doesn't look like the strongest of wolves, though. He has a prominent limp in his back leg, which is twisted slightly inward from a break that healed wrong. It's far too late to do anything about, and it often slows the male, but he gets around just fine. It's clear, in fact, by his body alone that he's been through some trials. Scars cover his dark fur, and he's even missing a toe on his front leg. The past was not kind to our dear friend. His power hungry, alpha parents had little time for him and his siblings, so he was raised by a ruthless beta whose job it was to 'teach' the pups what they needed to know to survive. His lessons were far too harsh, and Maike began to act as the peacemaker, trying to soothe the beta and his three sisters. Things got out of hand, though, and at six months old, Maike watched in horror as the beta killed one, two, then three of his siblings, while he himself was thrown against a tree, where he broke a leg.

Waking up was hard and full of pain, telling his parents harder, watching as they took the story of a bear attack from their beta above the true words of their son was the hardest. He had known, of course, that his parents had not really cared for him, but that wax the final, forceful point. Slandering your own pack mate was breaking a law, and Maike's father was a big believer in tradition. Not caring that he now only had one son left, he banished Maike. He knew it would mean his death. He went, not knowing what else to do, and fell asleep in a badger's den. Morning brought a surprise to him. He stuck his head out to find his mother's face and her comforting words. She had broken her mate's own law to find her son. It was then that Maike knew tradition should not always be followed. Sometimes, it was the very wrong thing to do.

As the years went by, Maike thought he found a pack like no other. One that lived happily together with one another under a strict set of rules. This pack was one of his dreams, a family that offered him so much more than just protection. He fell in love with his new residence and once more began to enjoy his life. This was where he thought he belonged. His mother had come with him, and both merged into the ranks. Maike a subordinate, his mother the beta until she grew too old and retired.

Since his departure from his parent's pack, Maike's mother has died. She was killed by a growth in her stomach that made it impossible to eat. While in Razor's pack, Maike stepped on a metal trap, meant to capture the sleek-pelted wolves that roamed the forests. It was hard, but he forced himself to pull free of it, losing a few of his toes in the process. He's fallen in love, he's fallen out of love. He's seen the loss of friends and foes. Unfortunately, Maike later found out that this wasn't all he had dreamed of. His pack was ruthless and mean, set out for vengeance and war. It's not something Maike wants to be a part of, but he has nowhere else to go.

"ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʀᴜɴ, ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴛᴏᴘ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ.
ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ᴀ ωᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀɢᴇ ωʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴅᴀʏs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ."

x x

Cameron is a strange wolf. Her mother used to call her unique, but really, she’s the definition of weird. At first appearance, she might only seem slightly off. She’s far bouncier than a wolf her age – tail constantly wagging, a smile exaggerated on her face, skipping around and seeming to enjoy life. The majority of the time, Cameron can be found with something sticking out of her mouth, whether it’s a stick, a chunk of meat, or the foot of a rabbit. It’s a habit she had and brings her comfort while in new places.

But that’s not what’s strange about her. At a young age, it was clear something wasn’t quite with her brain. She felt much different than the wolves around her and would often sink into a deep depression, sulking around the territory while picking up food alone the way. There were times that she would see things that no one else could – ghosts that hung just outside of her reach. The days the depression worsened, these delusions would grow. Everything changed the day the law was passed. Her pack was targeted. They had made their home close to a human town, and they were suffering for it. She and her family tried to stand up against them, but they were shot for it. The bullet that was meant for Cam slid against her forehead, leaving a deep gash in it and knocking her out. When she came to, a man had her by the neck, a knife pressed to her throat while he began to saw away, wanting to get her head off so he could get the money for killing her. She snapped and ran off, but not without getting a deep wound on her neck.

Ever since that day, Cameron has taken on the Cotard delusion, something that humans get on occasion. She wholeheartedly believes that she is dead and is in the life between heaven and hell. She believes that her family also died in that attack and attempted to find them, but is slowly starting to consider the idea that they lived through it. Because of this delusion, Cameron thinks that nothing can hurt her and does whatever she pleases. Danger doesn’t mean much to a dead wolf, and so danger is an emotion that is dulled. The depression that had taken hold of the young wolf dissipated, leaving a happy wolf in its place.

Instead of feeling lifeless and unhappy, Cameron feels something much different and clings to things like sticks and meat for comfort, carrying them around with her. They remind her of ‘life,’ something she doesn’t believe she’ll return to again. While she seems odd and won’t listen if you try to explain how she is still living, Cameron is a kindhearted female and tries to get everyone to play with her. She’s trying to make the best of being ‘dead.’ Because she thinks she's dead, she also thinks those around her are dead and often asks the confusing question of 'how did you die?'

Cameron's favorite game is hide and go seek, but, unfortunately, others hate to play with her. And why is that? Because Cameron thinks she can disappear by covering her eyes, thinking that she's a ghost and is able to disappear at will. This, of course, isn't true, but she's convinced that no wolf can find her when her eyes are closed and covered with her paws, so even if you go up to her and say you've found her, she won't move, thinking that you're bluffing.


More Information

Cameron is a three year old female within the Niria pack. She's average size, though a little thinner than what you might expect (31 inches, 70 pounds). Some wolves tend to shorten Cameron to Cam, which suits her just fine, as long as you're not throwing insulting nicknames her way. She is a subordinate. Cameron carries a stick around with her everywhere, which she considers to be her best friend. It's more out of comfort, but if she loses it, panic ensues.