T h e G r a y ~ Semi-Literate Wolf Plague RP ~ O p e n

[|~Nevermore~|]

A i m é e ;
fae - a l p h a - single

The alpha led her warriors silently through the forest, her nose and memory of the howls guiding her. Her feet, well worn from too many steps, guided her through without eyes. She felt the roots of the trees and edges of the rocks. High-stepping through the terrain helped her not to trip, though she did stumble a few times. Their fresh borders were not a far walk, and soon they reached the edge of the forest and after that the edge of their land. She could smell them, as they were very near. Only two, a brute and a fae."Do you see them?" She asked, her sweet voice naturally quiet.

She raised her head to the rock the loners stood on, though her eyes peered too far to the left, looking into open space. She stood like that, waiting for a reply. A breeze ran her coat around her body, twirling it and making it dance. Her eyes were like a salty sea, pale yet lively, and her stance was neutral, as she was not an aggressive wolf. The clouds above them rolled on for miles, careless and free. It was a beautiful day, and something was surely going to happen.

[[Pure rubbish, sorry.]]

[Alpha*]

(do you need charies? this looks interesting and i'd like to join.)

[|~Nevermore~|]

[[Of course! We are always accepting and I would be delighted if you joined.]]

[.imagine.dragons.]

[That was not rubbish.]

[Alpha*]

[img]Image%20Here[/img]


n a m e ;
Sol
a g e ;
3 summers
g e n d e r ;
Male
a p p e a r a n c e ;
Sol is a golden male, with bright, brillaint green eyes, he is tall and thin but very well muscled, an athlete (loves running,swimming,fighting,and hunting), has thick, but sleek fur, a mane that frames his face, red guard hairs, large paws, a bushy, plumy, bannery tail that is as long as he is. His ears, eyes and fangs are large. All in all, he is huge.
r a n k ;
Fighter? Right now he is a loner...

p e r s o n a l i t y ;
Sol is a kind soul and prefers to be nice not mean, he is cheery and funny and smart, loves to make others laugh, is a lover and...a fighter. He has an aggressive, mean, wary side but you should hope to not get there...theres no comming back if you Do get there with him...
h i s t o r y ;
When Sol was young his pack ran from the Gray, brought by a pup..and an elder. Everyone died...he was strangely...imune. By the time he was one he had been pushed from every pack he had come too...and had the scars that he eaned fighting for his life.
c r u s h ;
No, not yet.
m a t e ;
One day...i hope.
o t h e r ;
Nothing significant...

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[img]Image%20Here[/img]


n a m e ;
Storm
a g e ;
i am three summers.
g e n d e r ;
Male
a p p e a r a n c e ;
Storm is a silver wolf with black guard hairs, he too has a mane, fur is thick,long and slick. He is an excelent hunter because of his broad chest and long legs. His head is blocky, large ears, paws, and eyes, a long plumy tail that is his body length plus alittle, thin and wiry but strong and supple. Ice-Blue eyes
r a n k ;
Lead Hunter? Right now i'm a loner...soon..

p e r s o n a l i t y ;
Storm is darker than his friend Sol, less likely to trust, chivilirous, has no memories other than running from something he can't fight, not even of a pack. He is sweet and likes to put himself forward, he is bold and funny but usually seems cold, distant, he is...afraid.
h i s t o r y ;
Storm was a pup when he watched his pack die around him, he was raised by a loner and carried through the snows of his birthland in winter. He fell in love and almost had a mate, but she died of the illness. She was the pair of loners daughter.
c r u s h ;
Not any more.
m a t e ;
I'll find someone.one day. Soon i hope.
o t h e r ;
Storm is Blind.

[|~Nevermore~|]

[[I'll accept them, but please try not to keep them as loners for too long.]]

[Mimi-911]

{ still a wip c: }

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Hello stranger. I'm Sherbet. Some strange name, hm? Yes, I've payed close thought to it, but it doesn't really matter much to me. I do think, though, that it suits be just like the name 'Spot' suits a Dalmatian. This name, though, wasn't the name I was given at birth, that name was Cheyenne. Either way, I'm called Sherbet now. If you can't speak my full name for some reason or another, you can just call me Sher. It's a long story how I got the nickname. Let's just say though that I give you permission to call me that, though I would prefer you call be Sherbet. If you even dare call me Cheyenne, you won't live to see the next sunrise. I promise this. Anyway, moving on. Since some people find it funny to insult me and call me a male, I will state this very loud and clear. I am a female. Have you got that through your head yet? Good. As for my age, I'm what you two-leggeds, or humans as you call yourselves, would refer to as two and a half. To me, I'm just a young adult. I was born in the middle of summer, one of the warmest seasons in my home pack. As for my place in the pack, I am proudly a warrior, and proud to be so. Chasing Caribou around wasn't and still isn't exactly my type of fun.

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My appearance, you ask? I could have sworn you had eyes. Nevertheless, I'll tell you. I have a fine, lean build, with a thin, though not bony, build, and long legs that enable me to run faster than most other wolves. I have a thick pelt, of which is the colour of snow; pure white. My eyes are hazel, not uncommon amongst the pack, though enough to make me stand out. I have a few scars along my body, though most are hard to see because of my fur, however you can see one that goes from the bridge of my muzzle to my lip on my right side. I often get new scars due to my tendency to pick fights ... And that sums up what I look like. It's not much, but I'm very bland myself, so there's no big surprise there ...

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When I'm new to a group, I often come across as snappy and rude. I'm not the most trusting, due to my past. I'm often a bit disrespectful, more to the fact of nervousness than anything else. I'm temperamental and can get a bit grumpy if pushed to my limits. I simply can't stand people that find it fun to push people to their boundaries and see how they react. It's not cool. Most often, if I get cranky, I'll go and sulk by myself, with hatred burning in my veins, though sometimes I can be pushed too far. I'm often known for the fights that start in the pack, as I'm a bit of a tomboy and a mischievous one at that. I'm often the one found behind people's problems and troubles, often burying myself so deep in my own worries that I don't give a whit about anyone else. This can make me seem selfish, but I'm not. I just want someone to pierce my barrier, and like me for who I am, as love isn't something I'm too familiar with; even now I'm still not too fond of my brother. Just because I might seem hostile at first, doesn't mean you can't get to know me. I just need to be shown a bit of kindness.

I like several things, a lot are a bit gruesome, some are more placid. First of all, I like the youngsters. Puppies are adorable, and are one of the things that can make me calm. However, even in my kindest moods, I can't stand them, despite how much I love them. Often I can't be around them in fear of losing my temper, or breaking down. So, to avoid this, I avoid them. Simplest way to solve it. I often enjoy taking my anger out on helpless things, causing my temper to get the best of me. Another enjoyment of mine is peace. No sound, no nothing, just peace. To be able to lie down and gaze around and witness the forest come to life is a marvelous thing, without the racket of the wolves. Huh. I won't be able to see that. Lastly, I simply adore water. Whether it be rain, river or ocean, it is simply wonderful.

As for my hates ... there are simply too many to count. First, like most other wolves, I hate uptight and snobby wolves, and those that are downright rude. Despite how I may seem to be this at first glance, it is the really stuck-up wolves that get me riled up and angry. Next, I hate dragonflies. They're pesky and annoying. I also hate rank-lovers. You know, those wolves that don't love a person for who they are but their rank. Those people really get me aggravated. I mean, if you want that rank, fight for it, don't cause someone to fall head-over-heels for you when you are just going to use them.

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I love no-one and most likely never will. I don't find myself fancying anyone, and I'm not the girl that goes head over heels for anyone. If you want me to love you, you have to give me a reason to. My dream mate would be a guy that has to have a good body. I mean, what girl doesn't love muscles? I'd like him to be protectiove and assuring, charming and kind, and overall be the best gentleman that was ever born. I don't go for the sort of wolves that are daggy, and are the bad kind, don't give a scrap about me or whatever. Don't try to use me either, I don't tolerate cheaters. Another thing that simply peeves me off is rank lovers, so you better not be one of them.

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The young pup, who was most likely no more than a few hours old, moved out from behind her mother's tail. The tan-pelted wolf gazed down on her son with awe. Her father prodded the pup with his nose, and he yelped in delight. "Kyle," The she-wolf spoke, "This is your heir." A smile tugged at the lips of the fae, and her mate smiled back in return.

"He's gorgeous." The brute replied, and in response his new son bounded up to him, his paws flailing. The youngster tripped and fell, bumping his nose on the hard ground. A shrill yelp broke the compassionate silence, and the wolf that looked so much like his father had a tear slide down his cheek. Kyle bent his head to the level of his son's and licked the young pup's forehead. The pup sought further company and cuddled up against the leg of his father. The brute smiled lovingly down at his son. "It's alright, my boy." He whispered to the young pup, who whined softly.

Sherbet's story began like that. Forgotten in the corner of the den after her mother had pushed the outcast away when she realised what an abnormal pup she had born. The white pup watched her father smother her elder brother by a few minutes with love and compassion. All she received was a chilling glare sent from Tania, her mother. She sat shivering in the shadows of that corner for several moments, even though it seemed like hours, with nothing but a naive fear telling her to remain seated. She knew immediately that she wasn't welcome; she wasn't part of this family. Amongst the pact, a white wolf was seen as a bad omen, and Tania wanted nothing to do with the one that might bring her well-constructed happiness to pieces. For Sherbet was only a few hours old and knew nothing about the ways of the world, so she remained seated there, in darkness and shadows, while her brother was named and loved. The young white pup remained nothing but an unnamed curse.

When her father left the den once more, she was confronted by her less than loving mother, who sent threats to Sherbet who knew nothing of what was happening. "You are not to be seen by the family." Tania spat, causing a shiver to rake up and down the pup's spine. Sherbet looked upon her hated mother, eyes wide in terror. "If anyone knows of your existence, Cheyenne, you won't live to breathe your last." It was during this threat that Sherbet was named for the first time; as Cheyenne. The fae that was her mother left the pup sitting there, removing her from her life altogether.

Many months passed, the young pup that was Sherbet, or Cheyenne at the time, grew into a beautiful young wolf. Her fur however, turned even lighter, giving her the appearance of fallen snow. For the past year of her life, the fae had managed to avoid her family, keeping her existence unknown, and in return, was given a roof over her head. The pup and later teen, however, had to learn at a young age how to hunt and protect herself. Life was bleak for the snowy Sherbet. And finally, she'd had enough.

Thinking about the 'plan' was a lot easier than implementing it. Sherbet, or more to the fact she currently was Cheyenne, woke with a yawn, before she remembered what day it was. After several days staying up late, excrutiating headaches, bad sleep, death-stares by her mother, she was ready. She watched from the den as her parents and her brother [who had no clue of her existance] left to hunt. She busied herself collecting her own things, to make her departure, when right on time, the others arrived back.

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Hi guys. If you couldn't tell by my "adoring" sister speaking just beforehand, I'm Konan. Yes, I am the elder sister of her. Some cases this is unfortunate, other times, maybe not. She's not warmed up to me though, as of yet. Now, I don't think my name has a meaning, per se, though I would like it to mean 'irresistably handsome, Prince Charming'. Unfortunately, it doesn't though. I really don't a clue as to what it really means. Now, unlike my sister over there, I haven't ever changed my name, I've been Konan all my life. I don't particularly fancy changing it either. Though really, whatever floats your boat. As for nicknames, it is near to impossible to make a nickname from my name, first considering it is simply to say as it is, secondly because it is so short, and thirdly because any nickname would sound horrenndous for me. If you can make a decent name from Konan, go ahead and use it, but I don't particularly approve of them. I am, also like Sherbet, two and a half. Not too old, nor too young. Just right for me. As for gender, as if you couldn't tell by these muscles, I'm a brute. Male, masculine, boy, guy, whatever, its all the same. I'll stick to hunter. Unlike my sister, I couldn't bear to hurt a soul that was canine.

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My appearance? Well, I am simply a normal wolf. My pelt is thick during winter months, though in spring and summer it has a glossy sheen with a thin overpelt. My build is that of any male, I have long, but rather well built legs, a broad chest, and ripples of muscles beneath my fur. I'm more of a sprinter, rather than endurance runner, so I also have slightly longer legs and larger paws. My coat is a pale tan, and almost white at my belly. As it reaches closer to my spine, the fur becomes darker with layers of grey. I have scars beneath my pelt like many other wolves, a lot more though that are visible. However, I'm not ashamed of telling the story behind them. My fur that ranged near the eyes is a grey-brown, circuling around said hazel orbs but leaving the cheek and muzzle tanned. Like I said, I'm just an ordinary wolf.

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[Alpha*]

[[I'll accept them, but please try not to keep them as loners for too long.]]

(i'll have them packmates asap...anyone free?)

[TheCryingWolf]

{ Wow! This roleplay looks very interesting! o: I will definitely be joining c: }

[|~Nevermore~|]

[[@ Alpha* - I don't think many players are online right now. Aimée, Tarlon, and Loki are confronting the loners Vestraand Argos at the border right now, so you could show up there. Or make a post and wait for a reply from someone else later tonight or tomorrow.

@ mimi - Lovely forms. I trust that you will finish them up and I will go ahead and accept you.

@ The Crying Wolf - Thank you very much, I look forward to seeing your forms.

I will be updating the front page soon, thank you for your patience.]]