Post by Vance on Feb 16, 2006 5:15:27 GMT -5
Name-- Valen
Gender-- Male
Age-- Pup? If it's alright.
Fur color-- Primarily a typical grey, darker on his back. His stomach is not white, however, just a lighter shade of grey. With age it may lighten to form the typical white chest and underbelly of a wolf.
Eye color-- Blue [may change with age]
Markings-- He has a spot of a lighter grey on one of his forepaws, and the back of one of his ears is darker than the other. Not really anything distinguishing, however.
Scars-- He has a very tiny scar on the back of one of his hind legs, close to the paw, as well as a scratch /inside/ his ear. He can't remember getting either of them, though.
Jewelry-- Zilch
Other accessories-- Zip. [as in, none, not the accessory xDD]
Mate-- O rly?
Pups-- Well, he has thirty two. Nah, xDD None at all.
Friends-- Lonely puppy; none.
Personality-- Valen is a pup, and a somewhat puppish attitude he has. He is curious about things, and at times he can be naive. He doesn't have a simple personality though, he does indeed have some complication to him. For a pup he is surprisingly solemn, having been raised in a non-traumatic enviroment, that was also a non-loving family. When the general motto of the family is "silence is good", he would have to be. His /general/ attitude is indicative of a pup. Shy, rather easy to scare, and always lost in daydreams.
Strengths-- Well, he's not annoying unless you find shadows and lurking puppies annoying. Um, not many of his strengths have prevailed because he's a puppy. He is tolerant? Uh, quiet. Nice? Innocent? -dies-
Flaws-- Easy to scare, and.. small and .. easy to hurt.
History-- Valen was born fifth in a litter of five, to a family that was more about prestige than love. And because he wasn't the epitome of big huge warriors he wasn't really paid much attention to. It wasn't something he minded much, he had never known anything better. However; at one point his parents started fighting, and getting violent and abusive towards the pups. Valen was really never brave and was scared of the wolves that had he had lived with, and fled.
Loves-- Butterflys.
Loathes-- His older brother Xarchist, and.. bees.
Fears-- Natural disasters. Threatening wolves.
Example of your intro-- An expression of out-of-place suspicion was plastered on the bantling's face, his tail twitching between his back legs. There wasn't really much to be scared of. He was not scared. He was suspicious. He knew just because there wasn't anything particularly dangerous in sight, didn't mean that there wasn't anything at all. But that was a funny thought for Valen to be thinking. He was paranoid, but naive. Naive about the personalities of wolves. He was a walking contradiction. He was scared of wolves but he didn't believe any of them could be truly 'bad'. No, they were all misunderstood.
He nodded to himself, then narrowed his eyes as a small insect flew past his nose. It was a bee, something he hated. Unlike this here harmless butterflies, bees had stings. Stings hurt. Stings bad. His tail flicked idly behind him, his gaze moving to stare at the sky. Which, he noted, was going to rain. A low growl, almost playful, slipped from his muzzle, as a raindrop landed on his tail. And then one happened to land on a passing butterfly, which was unable to handle the weight and velocity of the drop.
The bantling pounced on the butterfly, then pulled up a paw to realise ... that he had killed it. A mortified expression came across his face. Crouching to the ground, he whispered. "I'm sorry, butterfly."
Gender-- Male
Age-- Pup? If it's alright.
Fur color-- Primarily a typical grey, darker on his back. His stomach is not white, however, just a lighter shade of grey. With age it may lighten to form the typical white chest and underbelly of a wolf.
Eye color-- Blue [may change with age]
Markings-- He has a spot of a lighter grey on one of his forepaws, and the back of one of his ears is darker than the other. Not really anything distinguishing, however.
Scars-- He has a very tiny scar on the back of one of his hind legs, close to the paw, as well as a scratch /inside/ his ear. He can't remember getting either of them, though.
Jewelry-- Zilch
Other accessories-- Zip. [as in, none, not the accessory xDD]
Mate-- O rly?
Pups-- Well, he has thirty two. Nah, xDD None at all.
Friends-- Lonely puppy; none.
Personality-- Valen is a pup, and a somewhat puppish attitude he has. He is curious about things, and at times he can be naive. He doesn't have a simple personality though, he does indeed have some complication to him. For a pup he is surprisingly solemn, having been raised in a non-traumatic enviroment, that was also a non-loving family. When the general motto of the family is "silence is good", he would have to be. His /general/ attitude is indicative of a pup. Shy, rather easy to scare, and always lost in daydreams.
Strengths-- Well, he's not annoying unless you find shadows and lurking puppies annoying. Um, not many of his strengths have prevailed because he's a puppy. He is tolerant? Uh, quiet. Nice? Innocent? -dies-
Flaws-- Easy to scare, and.. small and .. easy to hurt.
History-- Valen was born fifth in a litter of five, to a family that was more about prestige than love. And because he wasn't the epitome of big huge warriors he wasn't really paid much attention to. It wasn't something he minded much, he had never known anything better. However; at one point his parents started fighting, and getting violent and abusive towards the pups. Valen was really never brave and was scared of the wolves that had he had lived with, and fled.
Loves-- Butterflys.
Loathes-- His older brother Xarchist, and.. bees.
Fears-- Natural disasters. Threatening wolves.
Example of your intro-- An expression of out-of-place suspicion was plastered on the bantling's face, his tail twitching between his back legs. There wasn't really much to be scared of. He was not scared. He was suspicious. He knew just because there wasn't anything particularly dangerous in sight, didn't mean that there wasn't anything at all. But that was a funny thought for Valen to be thinking. He was paranoid, but naive. Naive about the personalities of wolves. He was a walking contradiction. He was scared of wolves but he didn't believe any of them could be truly 'bad'. No, they were all misunderstood.
He nodded to himself, then narrowed his eyes as a small insect flew past his nose. It was a bee, something he hated. Unlike this here harmless butterflies, bees had stings. Stings hurt. Stings bad. His tail flicked idly behind him, his gaze moving to stare at the sky. Which, he noted, was going to rain. A low growl, almost playful, slipped from his muzzle, as a raindrop landed on his tail. And then one happened to land on a passing butterfly, which was unable to handle the weight and velocity of the drop.
The bantling pounced on the butterfly, then pulled up a paw to realise ... that he had killed it. A mortified expression came across his face. Crouching to the ground, he whispered. "I'm sorry, butterfly."