[Northern Rocky Mountain x Apennine] Muse Dec 24, 2015 1:02:33 GMT -5
Post by Muse on Dec 24, 2015 1:02:33 GMT -5
Years RPing: On and off for about 8 years
Other: Replacing my third character slot
How You Found Us: Long ago in a distant internet search for good role play sites
Name: Muse “inspiration” – named after the Muses of Greek myth
Birthday: March 10, 2013
Species: Northern Rocky Mountain x Apennine Wolf
Height: 30 inches
Length: 44 inches
Weight: 147 lbs
Coat Color: Cream
Eye Color: One teal, one orange
Health Issues: None
Other Information: Muse has synesthesia and can be prone to insomnia.
Mental Stability: Sane
Even before she was born, Muse’s life was marked by tragedy. Her parents were a couple like any other trying to start a family—two wanderers from the Northern portion of the continent who met with the same goals in mind. They wished to find a home and raise a healthy liter of pups. They rejoiced when the swollen promise of pups began to take shape one spring, and slaved day and night to assure their litter would be a healthy one.
But sometimes you cannot change what the fates have in store. Three stillborn pups accompanied Muse out into the world, their lifeless bodies dull in color and void of any signs of life. The loss of such tiny wolves nearly broke Muse’s mother, but with one pup still to care for, the weary femme couldn’t give up. Muse became the small family’s light of hope in that time of suffering. She was lively and demanded their attention at all times. She was playful and curious, mischievous and demanding. She was everything a pup should be. And therefore, she became their muse.
Her curious nature and strong bond with her parents is what defined Muse during her childhood. That, and her heterochromia eyes—one the color of sea foam and the other a bright spark of orange. Muse’s parents loved their daughter’s unique feature. Without any siblings to compare her too, the young couple did not notice anything different about their daughter… not at first. They watched her grow, devoting their precious pup with love and affection. They fretted on those nights Muse would wander from the safety of their den to stare up at the moon with wide eyes, and never spoke of the times they found her mashing berries into a pulp, only to trace patterns over the ground using the dye from their juices. Superstitious by nature, the devoted parents did their best to discourage any odd behavior before it became a problem.
But Muse didn’t think any of that was a problem. She questioned her parents on why they could sleep through the night so easily while she was kept up by her busy thoughts. She wondered why they didn’t love the colors of the world around them like she did, why they didn’t want to create with their paws like she felt the urge too. Every scuff she made in the dirt was a mark. Every paw print was a creation. Why not go further, expand this idea to the berries in order to make something entirely new?
Muse loved seeing the world differently, and although they loved her with all their hearts, her parents did not.
One night, Muse overheard her parents talking about her. She had woken up—restless even after two years of chasing sleep every night—and padded out into an early springtime chill. The moon arched high in the sky, only a sliver of its mass shrouded in shadow. The rest of it’s bleached face reflected it’s light down on her, and the two wolves sitting side by side only a dozen yards away. Their hunched postures and hushed voices told Muse that something unusual was going on, and so she crept forward with the intention of staying hidden.
“—almost like she’s becoming worse.”
It was her mother. Her whisper became audible after Muse had padded only a few steps forward.
“I know dear, but there’s not much we can do… she’s just unusual, is all.”
Ivory audits twitched as she realized they were talking about her. Her haunches tightened in what she presumed was a stab of fear. She had never heard her parents speak ill of her.
“It might be more than just her unusual behavior,” her mother said in a hush. “Do you remember the night she was born?”
The rest of the conversation was lost to the ivory wolf. She retreated back to the dens, tucking her tail over her nose as she laid down. For the rest of the night, her eyes stayed wide open, her dual-colored orbs furrowed in anger… a feeling she had never felt so acutely before now.
When she opened her eyes again, light was filtering through the low-hanging ceiling of the earthy den. Muse pushed herself out to stretch, looking around for her parents. She was unsure if they had even returned the previous night. When she found them they were lying haphazardly on the ground, mouths open in pained snarls. Dark berry juice stained their teeth and their tongues hung, swollen and purple, from their maws. They were dead.
Calm from the shock, Muse surveyed the area with wide eyes, taking in the dark spheres littering the ground and the bushes that sported the deadly miniature fruit. She sat beside her dead parents all afternoon until the shock wore off and left nothing but her shaking limbs in its wake. Stricken with grief, Muse found herself running. She had no sense of direction or time, and ran until her legs gave out and she succumbed to the blackness of exhaustion. When she woke again, she took off again. for days this went on, until she stumbled upon a group of wolves who called themselves Ananke.
Curious. When it comes to seeing the world around her, Muse is fearless. Every flower demands to be sniffed. Every cloud can be a shape. Every stone could be overturned to expose a tiny miniature world underneath. The natural world ceases to amaze her. She wants to explore it all. Growing up, Muse and her parents traveled in a small wandering pack, so she was able to see a lot of the main island of Anikira that wasn’t claimed by a larger pack. She is knowledgeable about the other wolves who inhabit her home, and although her heart lies with wandering the land, she chose to settle with Ananke in the wake of her parent’s death.
Superstitious. Muse blames herself for her parents’ death. She fears getting close to anyone because of this alleged “curse.” So, despite her sweet and cheerful nature, she stays slightly distant, believing that anyone she cares about will meet an untimely death like her unborn siblings and deceased parents. Her heterochromia eyes are an even further reminder of how she is set apart from others. Every time Muse meets someone new, she fears rejection because of her physical appearance.
Artistic. In the center of her universe lies color—ever present, vivid colors. They’re one thing that has never changed in Muse’s shifting life. Colors come to her as easily as breathing. They swirl in her mind when birds sing. They explode behind her eyelids whenever she closes her eyes. She does not have a word for her condition. In fact, she doesn’t see it as a condition at all, but rather just way things have always been. Until recently, she never even knew her colors were unique to her. Humans have a word for what Muse sees, however: synesthesia.