by Hanoverian » Wed Nov 03, 2010 1:33 pm
Estrella has long, silky, once-back fur, now an extremely dark gray with subtle hints of a lighter color in places. Like all dogs of the breed, she has a somewhat elegant and feminine appearance, with a fox-like head carried high, long legs, and a full tail. Her eyes are an ever-changing mix of bright, silvery, white and gold. Swirls of color swim in her eyes, passing quickly so hardly visible. They have a certain sparkle to them, like shards of sharp crystal embedded in the iris. She is about 23 inches tall at the shoulder.
Age: 3 years
Gender: Female
Breed[Be specific]: Belgian Sheepdog
Element: Northern Lights
Pack: Spirit Eyes ( I believe that is the name, sorry, I've got an awful memory ^_^; )
Rank: Head Healer
Personality: Estrella is rather shy, although if you fight her against her beliefs, the quiet dog turns into a fiery, defensive, tough, and sometimes scary monster. She is definitely willing to fight for what she believes in! She cares deeply for her friends and family, and will do nearly anything to help them. Betray her, however, and you've got a mortal enemy. Working for years on the mountain makes for a strong beast, you know.
History: [written from Estrella's point of view] So this is what it is like being dead. I've always wondered the about the sensation of lifelessness. It isn't all that bad. A bit floaty, weightless. But I'm not floating. I just feel... light. As if I've dropped about 58 pounds; all my weight. Odd.
I died young. Only 3 years old, killed in a rather unheroic and clumsy way - falling off a cliff. No, it wasn't suicide, wasn't intentional. I was a herding dog, you see, keeping the sheep of my human, Tablone, safe and in order. My job wasn't usually very exciting, just barking and nipping at the idiotic sheep to keep them in the right place.
I had a family, too. My mother, Seidona, father, Charit, and my baby brother, only 1/2 a year old, Sampson. We were nomads of a sort, traveling with Tablone to wherever, working the sheep, keeping order. It was a good life. Plenty of food, good health, and every sheepdogs dream- herding work to be done. Life was good, we would often stumble upon wild dogs, who I would watch for hours, listing to their banter, their strange tongue. My mother told me to be wary around the strange beasts, if hungry, the wouldn't hesitate to steal a sheep from the herd. I doubted it, the creatures seemed like such capable hunters that they never would go hungry.
Then came the fires. There was a lightning storm, great slivers of bright, white, power, shooting down from the sky in jagged pieces, momentarily bathing the meadows with an eerie, pale, glow. The lightning struck one of the lone trees in the great prairie, and it quickly spread through the grasses like a wild animal in a panic. The sheep were apparently afraid of fire. The huge herd of the massive creatures, usually so willing to obey, came charging forward. And I was in the way. I couldn't hear anything but the pounding of sheep hooves, not even the panicked calls and howls of my loved ones. My fur was starting to elite and my paws were burnt to a crisp from running through partially burning ground. Then came the cliff. It was too late to stop myself, and even if I had, the terrified sheep that were still right behind me would've shoved me off. And so I fell.
Crush: None yet!
Mate: Nope
Other(optional): Nopeitynope
Colored Spirits
Last edited by
Hanoverian on Thu Nov 04, 2010 8:04 am, edited 2 times in total.