[Northern Rocky Mountain Wolf] Duncan Dec 16, 2015 0:42:57 GMT -5
Post by Duncan on Dec 16, 2015 0:42:57 GMT -5
Years RPing: 12 years
Other: I work weekend nights every weekend night from 7pm to 7am. I won't be very active on those days (Friday night to Monday morning).
How You Found Us: Google and top wolf RPGs
Name: Duncan Bloodpelt
Birthday: March 15th, 2014
Species: Northern Rocky Mountain Wolf
Height: 29 inches at shoulder
Length: 44 inches
Weight: 135 lbs
Coat Color: White, greys and browns
Eye Color: Honey Yellow
Health Issues: Prone to depression
Other Information: Um...
Mental Stability: Sane
It was a storm unlike any other. The night the aliens descended upon the warring packs was the last time Duncan was going to see his family again. As the rain poured and the lightning flashed, the wolves of either clan came together in a whirling mess of blood and teeth. Kyro Bloodpelt was leading the attack with his two sons, daughter, and the rest of the pack known simply as "The Void" into battle. Duncan ran behind his father with his brother an entire head and neck length ahead of him. He was the second oldest, with his sister having been the runt. No one would have ever guessed she was the weakest though, since she had the temper of a salt water crocodile and was as dainty as a grizzly bear.
The wolves whose land they were invading were known as "The Ivory Collective" made entirely of white-pelted wolves. Duncan and his older brother were supposed to have mated with the alpha's daughters and formed an alliance between the two packs, but one of the daughters, Odessa, had refused Cobalt Bloodpelt's advances and war was declared. If Kyro could not have their lands through cooperation with The Ivory Collective, then he would claim it with their blood.
The two packs' speed was increased as they raced down large hills on opposing sides. The rain grew into a torrential downpour, ice cold and merciless, as a cacophony of thuds, wailing and gnashing of teeth erupted into the sky. It took only moments for bodies to collapse violently into death throes on either side, as both packs were military-like and disciplined in the ways of war. Just as Duncan tore out the throat of one enemy, he felt white hot pain on his left haunch, his right rib cage and on the back of his neck by three new opponents. He whirled on the closest as his brother Cobalt and his sister Jade ripped the other two off of him.
Blood stained the ground and mixed with the muddy earth below their paws. No matter how many times Duncan fell an adversary, the white wolves kept on coming. One moment he'd be crushing an enemy's windpipe between his jaws and the next he'd be in a disorientating roller coaster of teeth. A twinge of pain here, a hot flash of rage after, an ear ripped from another's head occasionally... eventually it all just became a blur. Whether it was because the rain was so thick or his brain just shut out how many wolves there were, he didn't know. He was taught only to fight when ordered and not to be afraid to die. At least now it was all coming in handy.
Bodies continued to drop on both sides. Thrice at least Duncan had to hurdle over the body of a pack mate as he closed the gap on a new opponent. Thrice at least his siblings had managed to rescue him when he was overwhelmed.
Then the aliens arrived.
The battle was over quickly as cracks of thunder dropped both sides' numbers to almost nothing. Ranchers, not that any of the wolves knew what they were, had come to settle the score since so many of their calves had been taken that year by wolves. Kyro roared the order to retreat as blood poured freely from multiple wounds on his body. His children in tow, he could only run as his most injured pack mates fell further and further behind, only to be ended with the blast of a gun.
Three weeks later, as the last of The Void hid in the rocky crags of their mountainous territory, the aliens came again, only this time in an effort to save what was left of the packs. The ranchers were moving in as a need for more agriculture rose and these wolves were no longer safe where they were. With the sharp stab of something that felt like a bee sting in his right haunch, Duncan dropped to the ground, weakened and disorientated not more than twenty minutes later.
Then the cold water engulfed him as the wood around him shattered on sea rocks. Still dazed and disorientated, Duncan scrabbled onto a flat log and held on as best he could. How he got out into the middle of a massive lake, he wasn't sure, but the water must have been poisoned. It was far saltier than any water he'd ever had before. As dawn broke, the lone male wolf realized that he was headed towards land. He slid off of his flat log and began to swim to get there faster once he realized he had feeling back in his body and could do so. Though he was not quite two years of age yet, Duncan had had to grow up very quickly. As he pulled himself from the water and onto the sand, he knew that he was alone and must fend for himself.
Raised to believe that the only thing that really defines who you are is how much strength you can accumulate before you die. Not just physical strength, but cunning as well. As a result, Duncan can be hard to get to know since he is always scheming. His mind never stops working and thinking about how he could rise to power, whether it be by lawful, moral means or by mercilessly ripping it away from others. Duncan is quite flexible in the matter of moral ideas, because he has very few true morals himself. While he will not go out of his way to brainlessly harm others, he has no problem in doing so if it will benefit him most at the time. It may be hard to get close to him, even though deep down he feels very alone and is on the insecure side, because he puts his own image of himself into others: Scheming, deceiving, out for themselves. Everything is like a chess board, and to come across someone whom is truly innocent and good would confound him.
Though he may not show it, Duncan can be very sensitive behind the callous indifference mask that he feels he must hide behind. Those that he becomes fond of he begins to fear, because they are the ones that could cut him deeper than any pair of fangs ever could. That being said, he will try to reach out once in awhile to others, as is his nature, but others may be put off by this internal conflict going on inside him as he tries to let someone in and guard himself at the same time. He isn't crazy, but he is confused and is prone to bouts of depression. For those who love him, these depression pits can be hard to watch, as Duncan has no means of fighting it off and lets it consume him. Despite all of his words of "power is all that matters", he knows deep down that it can't be all. There must be more to life than just battling for dominance and control...