I would like to adopt!
Number: 24
Picture:

Name: Lysander
Species: Tuli Wolf (Turns into a Tuli Wolf in the spirit world)
Personality: Lysander, as his name suggests, was a hopeless romantic when he was alive. He was the kind to write mushy love poetry that he would never show anyone. Althought soft on the inside, he is the strong and serious type on the outside. You would never know what he was thinking unless you asked, and he would most likely not tell you either way. He finds beauty in the oddest places, and often doesn't know how he is supposed to react in sitiuations such as the dead cub (Seen below) In a way, he has the makings of a serial killer, but you could never tell when he has his goofy grin on his face. His darker side comes out when he transforms into more of a Tuli Wolf when he becomes a souless spirit, but he finds no fault in his actions.
Likes: Poetry, Love, Beauty, His siblings, his pack
Dislikes: Pain, Discomfort, The Elders, Feelings in general, Awkwardness
Background (Optional, but it gives you a better shot. 2500 words maximum, 100 words minimum. We value quality over quantity, you can have five pages and still say absolutely nothing.)
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I was born into an average family of wolves, being the offspring of one of the lesser couples in the pack. My siblings and I came into the world in the middle of the night, which was not unheard of. We were of a good size, and had brown, sleek coats of fuzz. As all of the other cubs in the pack, my two siblings and I fighted for dominance amongst eachother. We played, building skills that we someday would teach to our family. It was a wonderful 6 months of life I had, and nothing I or anyone else had said or done could have fortold the inevitable future.
My younger sister was the one to find the body, contrary to popular belief. Our mother had sent us off to explore, after many promises to be back in time for supper. As we got deeper into the woods, our sister danced farther and farther ahead of us. My brother and I lagged behind, chatting and enjoying the sun. As we noticed the growing distance between her and us, we called out to her, not concerned at this point. Laughing, her head up and eyes closed, she ignored us, running farther then circling back to tease us. After a couple laps around my brother, she ran towards a fallen tree, hiding behind it. We continued on our way, certain she was trailing along behind. My brother interrupted my story to remark on the sudden silence, and we grew worried. We shouted her name, but made our tome playful, so if mother heard us she would thik we were playing a game. Rounding the fallen tree, we found them; my sister staring wide-eyed at the thing that layed at her feet. It was not a horrific sight, as some people would find it, and I found myself wanting to caress it's small, broken body. It seemed to be a little smaller than my sister, perhaps only a few months younger than us. It was a wolf cub, like us, and by it's build we assumed it to be female. She had a lighter coat than our pack did, and her face was shaped strangely. There was no blood surrounding the dead thing, only sores on her soft belly. Looking at my siblings, I saw that they did not see the beauty in her that I did, and I quickly assumed an alarmed face like them.
"Wha-- what should we do?" My sister was the first to speak. There was tears in her voice, though none visible on her fur.
"Let's bring it to the pack, we need to show them." My brother announced, looking at sister out of the corner of his eyes. She touched the cubs face, paws, skimmed lightly over the sores on it's stomach. My brother swatted her hand away. "Don't touch it, you have no idea where it's been.
"Poor thing," She replied, as she stood up. "She was so young... it's so sad." Once again, her voice was cracking.
I still had not spoken, and had not been planning to. Slowly, I grabbed it and slung it over my back, it's exposed belly touching my fur. Without speaking, we headed home.
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If I had realized how much damage a little dead cub could cause, I would have never allowed us to take it to the pack. However, I had no knowledge of things such as consequences at that time, and had acted on impulse, just as mother had when she saw us. As we neared the village, my brother pleaded with me to take the cub off my back, and drag it by it's tail instead. His reasoning being mother would want us to be touching as little as possible of the creature. I consented, and took to dragged it backwards by my teeth.
As luck would have it, mother was the first to see us with the cub. Her face was frozen in shock, her jaw hanging open. It seemed years she stood like that until she she spoke.
"You didn't kill it, did you?" Her tone was not accusing, but the words were harsh, and they hit us like a knife.
"No. We found her." My sister butted in, all traces of weakness gone. "In the woods, we did. See the scars on her belly?"
Mother nodded, expressionless. "Yes, I see them" She sighed.
We stood in silence, staring at the body. I knew we were all thinking the same thing.
"We should show the pack, it could be dangerous." I finally voiced our concerns.
"No, Lysander, I will show them. They will not listen to a cub." Mother walked off, dragging the thing behind her. We sat, watching her as she headed toward the elders.
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"Her name is Annabelle. It is." My sister woke me up in the middle of the night, her voice was cracked and dry, like sand. Confused, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
"Who's name?"
"The dead cub's name. It's Annabelle." She insisted.
It was not long before that mother had taken the cub to show the rest of the pack. At first, the Elders dismissed it, saying the sores on her stomach were nothing more than bug bites, and that she most likely belonged to a neighboring pack, and had simply gotten lost and starved to death. Everyone else had taken this theory to be the truth, and had forgotten all about the little thing. That was, until one of the Elders, Nomanchents, fell ill, and died. As the elderly and young started dieing off, people began blaming the dead thing's illness. Anyone who had come in contact with her was to be quarantined, including my family. We were to stay in our den, having meals brought to us twice a day by designated wolves. We were to stay isolated until further notice.
"How do you know?" I asked my sister.
"She told me."
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That very morning after I found out about the dead things name, my sister died. We found her barely breathing, and pressed the sores on her stomach to relieve the pain as she took her last breathes. My mother crawled on her, refusing to give up her baby to death.
"Stay with us!" She screamed. "Don't give up!"
But give up she did, she had too. My mother stayed by her, cradling my sister's face in her chest. She wept, bitterfully. When the Elders came to take my sister away, my mother held tight. They pried my mother off of her baby, and left, with no farewell. Mother crumpled to a heap on the ground.
My Sister's name was Annabelle.
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I woke that night in cold sweat. My stomach was twisting under me, and I felt like I was being stabbed in a thousand places at once. I could not see.
As I tried to breath, my lungs filled with fire. I felt a fog rising on me, felt myself detach from my body. I resisted, grabbing at thin air. I was not going to leave, not going to give up. I would cause no more grief to the pack.
"Is this what death feels like?" Was my last fleeting thought before it all went black.
My eyes opened to humming. It sounded like it was all around me, but I could not lift my heavy head to see. The pain was still there, but it was background noise to me now, all I could focus on was the terrible humming.
A gasp. The humming ceased.
I cried in agony. The humming was the only thing keeping me alive, keeping me distracted, at this point, and it had stopped.
"Shh shh," A voice said. "Did you awaken? You were not supposed to awake before you were fully detached." She frowned.
I nodded feebly.
"Alright, it's alright. Just go back to sleep now, go back to sleep. Your sister is here, soon your brother and mother will join us, too. Just shush. And sleep. Your mind will heal what your body cannot."
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"Hello, Lysander. It's your sister, Annabelle."
"Hello, Anna."
"Brother is here, too. And Annabelle, the dead cub is here. We are all here."
"Where are you?"
"We are at the back of your mind, always. You cannot see us, but we are here. For you. Always here."
"Always?"
"Always."
With that, I headed off into my new life, into the spirit world.
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