Post by Feather on Oct 29, 2007 19:13:51 GMT -5
Name: Sirian
Gender: Female
Breed: Canadian Eskimo Dog; purebred
Pack: Loner
Rank: - - - -
Age: About 4 summers
Short Description: Slender, lithe, agile, well-proportioned, muscular
Appearance: Standing at an average 25 inches at the withers is a female built for speed. A long, slender, arched back shows a grace of females in an elegant manner. Far from it though, for this is not for show. It is for the raw winds to beat at her sides and chest, able to slice through them like a knive. Although lithe and thin, while small around the chest, her legs are long and defy much of her personality.
Staring her right at the face might create a feel of intimidation. An arrow shaped mark rips cinnamon crest among her snow bleached coat. The triangluar mark is actually a cross-off of a larger saddle-type mark that blankets her back. Coming from the corners of her emrald stain-glass eyes are also very cinnamon stripes, continuing down her back and flooding into the saddle as if a river of blood.
Her legs are coated in muscle that were obtained from the many years of running. From what, she never knew. Other than her life depended on it and if she did not escape, she never would reach a heaven from that dark Hell. Being on a chase for so long let you learn the art of fast food - no pun intended. This is the use for her long claws and teeth, having a cat-like strategy for kill.
Personality: While her walk is poetry playing out on a harmonic, enunciated scale, her tongue is quick with insult keeping her from her nervous inside. If disturbed or pissed with any bit of effort, you have an enemy for sure. Although when aquired with ally, will be loyal and true until you mess with her, and face the consequences.
She has been known for a troublesome past, running from abusive mate, to another dark fate. In the nick of time she has always escaped with her life on the inch, and her virginity still intact. Now, her heart is solid and she has told herself that there will never be love again. That is, unless someone special comes along.
Along with her cruel language, she has the skill to match it. Upon first look, she may not be that impressive, a second glance, and you relize you've messed with the wrong dog. Originating from the Canadian Eskimo line, she is quite a worker with incredible stamina and fight; stubborness in other words. Give up? Heck no, her life is a better cost than submission.
History: The wind whipping around in a turbulence of distaster and mayhem signaled ultimate destruction. It drowned out everything except the frantic beating of her own heat wanting an escape from here.
She could feel herself swaying quicker and quicker with every turbulent gust of air that threatened to penetrate the "unbreakable" surface of hot casted metal. All of a sudden a loud crash wakened her from an eerie trance.
"The chopper is going down. . . !!"
Everything went black. . .
Only the trusted may hear the rest. . .
RP Sample:
Paws brushed away the fragile undergrowth beneath them as if mere dust on a hard wood floor. Dust clouded the air, mingling with the broken debree in a raging storm. It was beaten violently to the ground by bombing hail and rain drops, the warriors of the clouded skies. Lightning came sparse, yet was the only light to be guided by. If not, you'd be left alone in the pitch dark, thunder drowning out your frightened howls. . .
Determined eyes searched the bloodied ground looking for the slight traces of them. There reflection was ice blue, just as a frozen Carribean sea. The rest of the mysterious figure could only be seen by the erie reflection from the strange forked light slicing through the midnight darkness.
Very, very small footprints were flooding in like molds and washing away quickly. Streams of oozing mud and access blood slid across the treaterous rocks, prone to slips and serious injury if not aware and alert. To specify the desired victim, the ghoulish eyes studied the imprints carefully, every winkle and crease in the skin would determine age, gender, and size. It would also reveal the physical condition which was vital to know the correct approaching to the prey.
Newly matured. Approximately 18 to translate into human years. Serverly injured and weak. Small and fragile.
She seemed positively delicious. This one he would definatly have alot of fun with. Once in a while an Alpha needed to buff up and practice that raw mercililess desire to kill and torture. In the Lupine world having a soft heart wasn't acceptable.
{Taken from Lupine RP}
Gender: Female
Breed: Canadian Eskimo Dog; purebred
Pack: Loner
Rank: - - - -
Age: About 4 summers
Short Description: Slender, lithe, agile, well-proportioned, muscular
Appearance: Standing at an average 25 inches at the withers is a female built for speed. A long, slender, arched back shows a grace of females in an elegant manner. Far from it though, for this is not for show. It is for the raw winds to beat at her sides and chest, able to slice through them like a knive. Although lithe and thin, while small around the chest, her legs are long and defy much of her personality.
Staring her right at the face might create a feel of intimidation. An arrow shaped mark rips cinnamon crest among her snow bleached coat. The triangluar mark is actually a cross-off of a larger saddle-type mark that blankets her back. Coming from the corners of her emrald stain-glass eyes are also very cinnamon stripes, continuing down her back and flooding into the saddle as if a river of blood.
Her legs are coated in muscle that were obtained from the many years of running. From what, she never knew. Other than her life depended on it and if she did not escape, she never would reach a heaven from that dark Hell. Being on a chase for so long let you learn the art of fast food - no pun intended. This is the use for her long claws and teeth, having a cat-like strategy for kill.
Personality: While her walk is poetry playing out on a harmonic, enunciated scale, her tongue is quick with insult keeping her from her nervous inside. If disturbed or pissed with any bit of effort, you have an enemy for sure. Although when aquired with ally, will be loyal and true until you mess with her, and face the consequences.
She has been known for a troublesome past, running from abusive mate, to another dark fate. In the nick of time she has always escaped with her life on the inch, and her virginity still intact. Now, her heart is solid and she has told herself that there will never be love again. That is, unless someone special comes along.
Along with her cruel language, she has the skill to match it. Upon first look, she may not be that impressive, a second glance, and you relize you've messed with the wrong dog. Originating from the Canadian Eskimo line, she is quite a worker with incredible stamina and fight; stubborness in other words. Give up? Heck no, her life is a better cost than submission.
History: The wind whipping around in a turbulence of distaster and mayhem signaled ultimate destruction. It drowned out everything except the frantic beating of her own heat wanting an escape from here.
She could feel herself swaying quicker and quicker with every turbulent gust of air that threatened to penetrate the "unbreakable" surface of hot casted metal. All of a sudden a loud crash wakened her from an eerie trance.
"The chopper is going down. . . !!"
Everything went black. . .
Only the trusted may hear the rest. . .
RP Sample:
Paws brushed away the fragile undergrowth beneath them as if mere dust on a hard wood floor. Dust clouded the air, mingling with the broken debree in a raging storm. It was beaten violently to the ground by bombing hail and rain drops, the warriors of the clouded skies. Lightning came sparse, yet was the only light to be guided by. If not, you'd be left alone in the pitch dark, thunder drowning out your frightened howls. . .
Determined eyes searched the bloodied ground looking for the slight traces of them. There reflection was ice blue, just as a frozen Carribean sea. The rest of the mysterious figure could only be seen by the erie reflection from the strange forked light slicing through the midnight darkness.
Very, very small footprints were flooding in like molds and washing away quickly. Streams of oozing mud and access blood slid across the treaterous rocks, prone to slips and serious injury if not aware and alert. To specify the desired victim, the ghoulish eyes studied the imprints carefully, every winkle and crease in the skin would determine age, gender, and size. It would also reveal the physical condition which was vital to know the correct approaching to the prey.
Newly matured. Approximately 18 to translate into human years. Serverly injured and weak. Small and fragile.
She seemed positively delicious. This one he would definatly have alot of fun with. Once in a while an Alpha needed to buff up and practice that raw mercililess desire to kill and torture. In the Lupine world having a soft heart wasn't acceptable.
{Taken from Lupine RP}