In creating this character, I wanted rather simple, yet somewhat abstract designs. I used a bluish tone of the silver from the belly for the markings, to keep the character very simple in color variance.
Username:
Δтнɛиιαи Ɖяαɢσи {Athenian Dragon}
W.A.W.'s Name:
Minerva Pallas Moonflight {Minerva}
Gender:
Female
Personality:
Minerva is a bit shy and reserved at times, but is friendly with those she knows well- although, she does not make friends easily most of the time. She is very caring and gentle; always willing to help even if the task could affect her own plans. Around strangers, though, she can be a bit awkward in conversation, and often fears that they are bored by what she has to say. Minerva's quite cautious about doing things, always liking to plan things out before taking action.
Often she drifts into reveries, simply sitting in the grass, staring into space, and thinking about things- the topics she thinks about vary broadly, so it's rather hard to describe that. She believes strongly in respecting all others.
Minerva loves all children, and feels the smaller ones are easier to make friends with.
She generally likes things that are...creative. Those who know her describe her as kind, but sometimes quirky and eccentric; she has a good sense of humor, but only around her friends.
Um, sure, I guess you could say she has an overactive imagination. She seems very bubbly and optimistic on the exterior.
But, in truth, she hides a lot of sadness. She doesn't tell anyone, and I don't think she'll tell you at the moment.
History:
The night was cold and unforgiving. Snow and hail drove mercilessly down upon the den under a dead birch tree where a mother wolf shivered. The biting wind seemed to reach all corners, even the deepest, of the den, blowing right through the bones of the mother wolf, and she howled as a sudden gust of wind carried wet snow into the den.
The blizzard had struck suddenly upon the loner as she trotted through the grass of Acrea forest, and in desperation she had searched for a den. It wasn't much, but she'd found a small buildup of rocks on the side of the mountain, and had to make do before the hail began to rain down. To make things worse, she was about to have puppies. Oh, where were the brave wolves that she had heard of, the Wild Aquatic Wolves? She knew that long ago her ancestors had separated from the brave Aquatic Wolves during a storm like this one when the wolverines attacked- oh, she hoped that wolverines would not find her den now!
Howling in desperation, she cried for the Wolves to save her.
The brown-mottled wolf trotted through the snowy fields, on the trail of a strange scent. Hm? It wasn't one that he knew. It didn't even smell like it had originated in these lands. Ah! There it was, stronger than before! He snuffled at the snow, and noticed paw prints. The wolf who had created them must have been tired, because the paw prints were close together and dragged out, as if it had been limping or shuffling. With a snort, he ran a bit faster now, following the paw prints, until he reached a pile of boulders. Looking around, he noticed some wolverine tracks, and quickly he squeezed into the little cave that the boulders made.
He gasped at what he saw. A bloody female wolf lay on the ground next to a wolverine, which was just as bloody. Both appeared to be breathing, but the brown-mottled wolf needed to eliminate the first threat. Quickly he clamped his jaws around the wolverine, and it died without struggling. Then he focused his attention on the female wolf, ears pricking as a low whimpering sound reached his ears. "Save my pup," cried the female hoarsely, lifting her tail to reveal not one, but three pups. "Pup?" echoed the Warrior. There were three...but two were stillborn. There was one still alive, whining and yelping as it was exposed to the cold. It was a little dark gray pup with a silver belly and interesting bluish-silver markings. "Please!" whispered the female, trying in vain to wag her tail and show she was friendly. The brown-mottled looked at the female, then picked up the pup by the scruff. Squeezing back outside, he deposited it on the boulders.
The female didn't look like she would live. The mother's beautiful green eyes stared at him. The brown-mottled wolf stared back. And he knew what the mother wanted him to do. She was worthy of a quick death. Swiftly the brown-mottled wolf wolf bent down and crushed her jugular, and backed away quickly as air and blood whooshed out of it. Then, he walked outside, and pushed boulders over the opening. It was as much of a burial as he could give her, as she was not a Wild Aquatic Wolf and there was no place for a burial anywhere near here besides this.
The brown-mottled wolf bent down and looked at the pup, straight into its eyes. Both were like pools of liquid silver, shining in the light. It whined pitifully. Sighing, he stared at it for a while. And then suddenly he had a vision. It was simply of the pup, grown, dagger in her mouth and wind rippling at her back, and it erased his doubt. Yipping, he picked the pup up and sprinted as fast as he could, back the way he had come, to bring to his pack this new Wild Aquatic Wolf.
5 months after that night, in the middle of spring, the brown-mottled wolf looked down proudly from the top of the largest reddish boulder as the pup he saved began training to become an Aquatic Wolf, just like him. But he was old now, and he wasn't sure if he'd be alive after the 7 months that it took for the pup to train. Sighing, the brown-mottled wolf watched contentedly as the pup frolicked with the wolf that trained her. He'd thought about training the little pup, whom they named Minerva for her courage and bravery despite the violent past of her birth and mother; before she'd came of age, and had almost asked Rain, but after a bit of pondering, he'd realized that he probably would simply be too old to keep up with the pup through her training. Despite how much it pained him, he let another wolf train her. He whimpered quietly and lay his head on his paws. Would Minerva even remember him, having being raised mostly by other wolves? She simply knew him as a close friend, and had no idea of her history and the part that he played in it.
Over the last two months of his life, the old wolf watched her progress, each new thing she learned bringing joy to him as she scampered, stretching her tiny puppy legs, up the tall boulders to tell him what he had learned that day. There came the week when he didn't have enough strength to even stand, and he passed away on the anniversary of her birth. None knew, not even the old brown-mottled wolf or Minerva, but he passed away about the exact same time as she was born.
She was motivated to train harder when one of the more experienced WAW's told her about how Vector and some other wolves had gone to rescue other pups, and how they had fought off a large wolverine. Eagerly, she thought how she wanted to be just like them when she grew up! Vector was such a good fighter; she wished she could be like him. But she would have to train harder to prove her worth in the clan...
Other:
Her dagger originated from an unknown source; it is speculated that it was either a family heirloom found with her mother or given to her by another wolf, possibly the brown-mottled one. She does not know the brown-mottled wolf's name, nor has anyone told her anything about where she has come from. It is also unknown whether or not anyone else in the pack knows anything about her history, although Rain and Vector would be likely candidates.
The feathers on her ear and blade are from a snowy owl. The feather may or may not have come with the blade; but it is known that Minerva chose to have snowy owl feathers because of the one already existing on the blade. Small knots in the leather that tie the feather to the blade indicate that there were more items attacked to the blade, perhaps more feathers. If it was important, nobody will ever know.
Username:
Δтнɛиιαи Ɖяαɢσи {Athenian Dragon}
W.A.W.'s Name:
Minerva Pallas Moonflight {Minerva}
Gender:
Female
Personality:
Minerva is a bit shy and reserved at times, but is friendly with those she knows well- although, she does not make friends easily most of the time. She is very caring and gentle; always willing to help even if the task could affect her own plans. Around strangers, though, she can be a bit awkward in conversation, and often fears that they are bored by what she has to say. Minerva's quite cautious about doing things, always liking to plan things out before taking action.
Often she drifts into reveries, simply sitting in the grass, staring into space, and thinking about things- the topics she thinks about vary broadly, so it's rather hard to describe that. She believes strongly in respecting all others.
Minerva loves all children, and feels the smaller ones are easier to make friends with.
She generally likes things that are...creative. Those who know her describe her as kind, but sometimes quirky and eccentric; she has a good sense of humor, but only around her friends.
Um, sure, I guess you could say she has an overactive imagination. She seems very bubbly and optimistic on the exterior.
But, in truth, she hides a lot of sadness. She doesn't tell anyone, and I don't think she'll tell you at the moment.
History:
The night was cold and unforgiving. Snow and hail drove mercilessly down upon the den under a dead birch tree where a mother wolf shivered. The biting wind seemed to reach all corners, even the deepest, of the den, blowing right through the bones of the mother wolf, and she howled as a sudden gust of wind carried wet snow into the den.
The blizzard had struck suddenly upon the loner as she trotted through the grass of Acrea forest, and in desperation she had searched for a den. It wasn't much, but she'd found a small buildup of rocks on the side of the mountain, and had to make do before the hail began to rain down. To make things worse, she was about to have puppies. Oh, where were the brave wolves that she had heard of, the Wild Aquatic Wolves? She knew that long ago her ancestors had separated from the brave Aquatic Wolves during a storm like this one when the wolverines attacked- oh, she hoped that wolverines would not find her den now!
Howling in desperation, she cried for the Wolves to save her.
The brown-mottled wolf trotted through the snowy fields, on the trail of a strange scent. Hm? It wasn't one that he knew. It didn't even smell like it had originated in these lands. Ah! There it was, stronger than before! He snuffled at the snow, and noticed paw prints. The wolf who had created them must have been tired, because the paw prints were close together and dragged out, as if it had been limping or shuffling. With a snort, he ran a bit faster now, following the paw prints, until he reached a pile of boulders. Looking around, he noticed some wolverine tracks, and quickly he squeezed into the little cave that the boulders made.
He gasped at what he saw. A bloody female wolf lay on the ground next to a wolverine, which was just as bloody. Both appeared to be breathing, but the brown-mottled wolf needed to eliminate the first threat. Quickly he clamped his jaws around the wolverine, and it died without struggling. Then he focused his attention on the female wolf, ears pricking as a low whimpering sound reached his ears. "Save my pup," cried the female hoarsely, lifting her tail to reveal not one, but three pups. "Pup?" echoed the Warrior. There were three...but two were stillborn. There was one still alive, whining and yelping as it was exposed to the cold. It was a little dark gray pup with a silver belly and interesting bluish-silver markings. "Please!" whispered the female, trying in vain to wag her tail and show she was friendly. The brown-mottled looked at the female, then picked up the pup by the scruff. Squeezing back outside, he deposited it on the boulders.
The female didn't look like she would live. The mother's beautiful green eyes stared at him. The brown-mottled wolf stared back. And he knew what the mother wanted him to do. She was worthy of a quick death. Swiftly the brown-mottled wolf wolf bent down and crushed her jugular, and backed away quickly as air and blood whooshed out of it. Then, he walked outside, and pushed boulders over the opening. It was as much of a burial as he could give her, as she was not a Wild Aquatic Wolf and there was no place for a burial anywhere near here besides this.
The brown-mottled wolf bent down and looked at the pup, straight into its eyes. Both were like pools of liquid silver, shining in the light. It whined pitifully. Sighing, he stared at it for a while. And then suddenly he had a vision. It was simply of the pup, grown, dagger in her mouth and wind rippling at her back, and it erased his doubt. Yipping, he picked the pup up and sprinted as fast as he could, back the way he had come, to bring to his pack this new Wild Aquatic Wolf.
5 months after that night, in the middle of spring, the brown-mottled wolf looked down proudly from the top of the largest reddish boulder as the pup he saved began training to become an Aquatic Wolf, just like him. But he was old now, and he wasn't sure if he'd be alive after the 7 months that it took for the pup to train. Sighing, the brown-mottled wolf watched contentedly as the pup frolicked with the wolf that trained her. He'd thought about training the little pup, whom they named Minerva for her courage and bravery despite the violent past of her birth and mother; before she'd came of age, and had almost asked Rain, but after a bit of pondering, he'd realized that he probably would simply be too old to keep up with the pup through her training. Despite how much it pained him, he let another wolf train her. He whimpered quietly and lay his head on his paws. Would Minerva even remember him, having being raised mostly by other wolves? She simply knew him as a close friend, and had no idea of her history and the part that he played in it.
Over the last two months of his life, the old wolf watched her progress, each new thing she learned bringing joy to him as she scampered, stretching her tiny puppy legs, up the tall boulders to tell him what he had learned that day. There came the week when he didn't have enough strength to even stand, and he passed away on the anniversary of her birth. None knew, not even the old brown-mottled wolf or Minerva, but he passed away about the exact same time as she was born.
She was motivated to train harder when one of the more experienced WAW's told her about how Vector and some other wolves had gone to rescue other pups, and how they had fought off a large wolverine. Eagerly, she thought how she wanted to be just like them when she grew up! Vector was such a good fighter; she wished she could be like him. But she would have to train harder to prove her worth in the clan...
Other:
Her dagger originated from an unknown source; it is speculated that it was either a family heirloom found with her mother or given to her by another wolf, possibly the brown-mottled one. She does not know the brown-mottled wolf's name, nor has anyone told her anything about where she has come from. It is also unknown whether or not anyone else in the pack knows anything about her history, although Rain and Vector would be likely candidates.
The feathers on her ear and blade are from a snowy owl. The feather may or may not have come with the blade; but it is known that Minerva chose to have snowy owl feathers because of the one already existing on the blade. Small knots in the leather that tie the feather to the blade indicate that there were more items attacked to the blade, perhaps more feathers. If it was important, nobody will ever know.
