[Tundra Wolf] Mythril Nov 17, 2015 18:16:59 GMT -5
Post by Mythril on Nov 17, 2015 18:16:59 GMT -5
Years RPing: 10+ with a few years break in the middle...
Other: I tend to play equine or stray canines. So wolves are just a slight step out of my comfort zone. Might take me a few posts to get it right.
How You Found Us: Google lol
Name: Mythril "Myth"
Birthday: November 24, 2011 (4 years)
Species: Tundra Wolf
Weight: 116 lbs
Coat Color: Snow white with the tips of her guard hairs being black
Eye Color: Pale yellow
Health Issues: Torn left ear due to a bear attack. Various claw scars across her neck, chest, and left shoulder received in the same attack.
Other Information: (Small description) The gleam of secrets flared brightly in the fire of those pale, pale yellow eyes. Lips curl upward in a delicious smirk giving hint to the mischief that lay beneath the distant lady like demeanor of this canine. Alabaster fur encased a lithe, athletic frame, enhancing the shadow of black that dusted the tips of that thick guard hairs that wove patterns of snowy midnight spreading out across the width of those shoulders down along the arch of her spine, ending in the thick plum that swayed lazily behind.
Mental Stability: Sane
History: The night had been brilliant and clear, the crisp winds danced across an ever changing landscape of snow and stone. From amid the icy terrain deep beneath the earth where warmth lingered the soft whimpering cries of newborns were heard. A pack, small in size gathered, some paced, some lounged almost lazily, but all held a certain alertness. It was both a blessed night and a cursed one for this pack, for it had almost doubled in size in the space of a few hours.
The father, an alpha of the Tundra pack known as the Jewel Pack, stood guard proudly beside the entrance to the den a freshly taken arctic hare lay ready for the laboring mother at his paws. It would be months before any of the pack would actually lay eyes upon the new additions but all would band together to provide enough food for their survival.
A year later the excited yelps would have filled the air. Romping pups wrestling and rolling over themselves, eachother, and their "nannies" in games that would one day become more serious. Their excitement ran as wild as they for today they would be giving their first official lesson in hunting. Their personalities had started to reveal themselves. From the playful and full of laughter Mythril, to the reclusive and timid Garnet. The bold Onyx, the sly Sapphyre, and finally the curious Obsidian.
The curious Obsidian would be the cause, that curiosity that set in motion the downfall of the Jewel Pack.
It was during the first hunting lesson when disaster struck. Obsidian had wandered off while their caretaker had been focused on explaining in vast detail the different scents and ways to track them. All at once there had been a great deafening roar. To the young wolves it had seemed the very air had shook with its ferocity. This was followed by a high pitched scream for help that was cut off at its peek. A cry that had been to little to late, and yet still the pack had responded enforce. Silver and white bullets gliding forward with a single minded focus. All the while the elderly caretaker attempted to herd the younglings away from the scene that unfolded just over the ridge from where they had taken their lesson.
But the attempt was in vain, the sounds of snarls, the roars of a great beast echoed mercilessly across the lands. Then silence. The old wolfess coward in front of the young litter her gaze intent on the ridge as the sound of heavy footfalls drew closer, and closer, until at last a bloody and torn form of a large grizzled appeared. With a whimper of fear the old one urged the young ones to run, but they were not quick enough to escape the dagger like claws of the enraged brute.
The old one had been the first to be caught as the six had fled, she had turned on the bear, dying even as she bit and snarled fighting into the very end. Mythril was the next, she cried out at the crippling pain that lanced through her neck and left shoulder where the bears claw swept her aside with very little effort. Her left ear torn in two, that throat and shoulder gaping. The impact had sent her flying, landing heavily among the shrubs where to the sounds of her siblings dying cries she faded into darkness.
When next she woke it was to movement, the unfamiliar sense of being carried, and an unbearable pain both physical and mental. And so started her new life, one she would hate with every fiber of her once free soul. Humans, that strange two legged creature that had saved her life. Had stitched together the gapping wounds that threatened to claim her, but had never been able to heal the horrors of that day. The day the curiosity had taken from her everything she had known, everyone she had ever loved. For the next year the humans raised her, rehabilitated her, "taught" her the way of the wild with the intend to release her one day. But somewhere along the way someone had decided she would not survive.
Thus for the third year of her life she was transfered to a zoo, a small enclosure where she paced constantly from one side to the other while scores of humans snapped pictures, pointed with various degrees of awe and laughter. Occasionally some would make comments about the enclosure that was far to small for a wolf her size until finally toward the end of her third year she would be "rescued" again. This time her destination was to a land far beyond her comprehension. With lips curled back and an attack mentality she would be tranquilized and placed into a wooden crate. The sway of the ship lulled her in and out of lucidity, when she would wake to much a few pounds of medicated raw meat would be shoved through a small hole for her to pounce on. She knew it was poisoned, knew if she ate it then darkness would take her again. But she had welcomed the darkness, the break from the filth that had become her life. Unable to do much else she would collapse atop her own urine and feces.
She had long since lost track of how long she had been in that forsaken crate, had lost count of how many times she had wished, had prayed for Death to be merciful and take her from this pathetic existance.
A dream, the terror of her pup-hood had visited her that last night, the roar of the beast had merged with the quaking thunder and raging seas. She wasn't aware the ship was ablaze. Wasn't aware, or did not care, that it's bulk of steel and wood would be claimed by that seemingly unending expanse of water. Nor was she aware of her crate splintering, releasing her from its confines so lost in the drug induced dreams that tormented her sub-conscience.
What did wake her was the gentle lap of the water, and the solid surface that she had come to rest upon. Slowly those pale eyes had blinked against the bright sunlight, those lungs had heaved and hacked until what seemed like gallons of saltwater spilled from those parted jaws. Weakly she had pushed herself into a sitting position...peering around quietly at the island, an island whose name she would soon learn to be Anikira, that she had washed up on. And so would start her life anew, what adventure waited for her here? For the first time since pup-hood a spark of life had touched the ice of her eyes, the cold wall around her soul.
Personality: There was something about this canine, two sides of a single coin given to the worlds view. A mask, a gift to conceal, often used to protect a shy spirit. First impressions are often far from the truth, leaving one to hide from the public behind a faced of cool distance. An arrogance that appeared to fill every well worked muscle lining that lithe athletic frame. It was an impression she did not mind giving off, allowing very few to discover the truth beneath the thick hide of snow and shadow. The pride for which she held herself only added to the illusion of a snobbish demeanor. Successfully concealing the depth of loyalty and honor that dictates every action the wolf preformed. The teaching of her parents, their high morals and firm black and white out-look on life had been drilled into the wolf from pup-hood until the day they had vanished from her life. But was this who she truly was? Beneath the training under the aloof visage presented to the general public lays a nearly forgotten aspect of herself. Somewhere locked behind a wall mortared with pain and blood was a canine who had once held a lost dream, she had been lively and flirtatious with a laughter now silenced. All was not lost though, a privileged few were privy to the ghostly figure's hidden heart. Those who had braved the chilly demeanor to find what lay beneath.