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Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2016 20:00:16 GMT -5
BIO PAGE Main Page Joining Page
Welcome to the Bio Page! Here, you post applications yourself so as to have the ability to return and add new info later. This way, the mods don't have to hastle as much.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2016 20:38:48 GMT -5
Name: April Age: 3 years, 8 months Birthday: April 9th Horoscope: Aries Gender: Female Breed: German Shepard x Golden Retriever Rank: Matriarch, expecting Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Gender Orientation: Female
Appearance: At first glance, April would seem more like a Golden Retriever than a German Shepard. Her coat is mostly gold, but there are patches of varying shades of brown and black scattered all over her pelt. Her fur is relatively short and extremely soft. Her ears flop over slightly, but stick up enough to be slightly awkward and very cute. April is not very intimidating despite her muscular body and size, though she has been told by many that she is could be if she wanted too. Her eyes are a deep chocolate brown which almost always shine with mischief and youth. She has a claw mark on her shoulder.
Height: 23 inches from shoulder to ground Weight: 65 pounds Build: Muscular, heavy Scent: Vanilla Gait: Well-balanced, agile trot Walk: Strut Run: Low to the ground, long-strides, covers a large amount of distance at a rapid pace Altered: No Infertile: No Mutations (e.g. albinism): No Deformities (e.g. splayed paw): No
Personality: April is a force to be reckoned with. She is sarcastic, sassy, and quick witted. She almost always has the right intentions, but her attitude can sometimes send the wrong message, causing her to get into trouble if she isn't careful. The thought of overthrowing any of her superiors has never crossed her mind before, but it just might in the near future. She is a rule follower and fiercely loyal, especially to her own kin. If something rubs her the wrong way, she is going to confront the issue. She loves a good laugh and can be quite goofy if in the right mood. Relationships: She had a mate just recently, but he died in a unfortunate accident. She trusts her superiors but not as much as she probably should. Offspring: She is expecting. Her belly is just now starting to show signs of her expecting pups. Habits: April will quirk one ear up if she is stressed or surprised. She will lash out if given any cause to. Distinctive Characteristics: The fur on her shoulders and down in front of her chest are thicker and black, almost like a lion's mane. Backstory: Her Safeguard died before the epidemic broke out as he was an elderly old man. She was left to fend for herself on the streets which caused her independent spirit. ~ѕнσσт ƒσя тнє ѕтαяѕ~
Name: Blitz Age: 4 years, 2 months Birthday: January 28 Horoscope: Aquarius Gender: Female Breed: English Setter Rank: Hunter Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Gender Orientation: Female
Appearance: Blitz is the classic colored English Setter with a white coat that is covered in black dots. One could almost mistake her for a Dalmatian, but her semi-long coat and powerful build differentiate her from her distant cousins. On her chest and belly her fur is longer, giving the illusion of fluff. Her long tail is stark white and the fur falls off like feathers. The black fur on her ears hang over the end making it look like a waterfall of hair. Her head is oval shaped and her chest is rounded. Her eyes are a gorgeous shade of amber.
Height: 25 inches from shoulder to ground Weight: 58 pounds Build: Long and lean Scent: Morning Dew Gait: Bouncy trout Walk: Purposeful saunter Run: Rapid strides Altered: No Infertile: No Mutations (e.g. albinism): No Deformities (e.g. splayed paw): No
Personality:
Blitz is a laid back female that just goes with the flow. She loves her job as a hunter as that was what she was bred and taught to do from birth. She doesn't like when things get too serious and will usually try to lighten the situation. The only time that she is really serious is on a hunt. By nature she isn't confrontational and so if something upsets her, she will push it down to the deepest parts of her. She would rather not say anything to that dog that upset her then to create an awkward situation. She cares deeply for her pack mates(even the grumpy and insane ones) and would do literally anything for them. She tends to be airheaded at time, but she tries her best to pay attention, especially if a superior if taking to her. When she becomes sad, she shuts down; when she becomes angry (which takes a lot to do), she blows up in a fit of rage, releasing all the emotions that she has kept inside. Relationships: She trusts her alpha and beta to a fault. However, she tries to keep a constant eye on the scouts as she wouldn't want to be caught off guard by a challenge. It is to her advantage to know who is power hungry. Offspring: She mothered one litter almost a year and a half ago, but hasn't seen them since her Safeguard gave them away. Habits: If she is stressed, she will go out and "hunt" for birds (it's more like running into the flock and scattering them just like old times). When overly agitated or worried, she will mumble to herself. Distinctive Characteristics: Her feathery tail. Backstory: Before the epidemic, she was a gundog for her Safeguard and went on regular hunting trips with him. Blitz loved him dearly and will sometimes become depressed over his death. ~ѕнσσт ƒσя тнє ѕтαяѕ~
Color: #f0b898
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Post by *MorningGlory* on Nov 1, 2016 20:58:41 GMT -5
Name- Pandora
Age- 5 years
Birthday- January first
Horoscope- Aquarius
Gender- Female
Breed- Malamute
Rank- healer
Sexual Orientation- straight
DESCRIPTION
Height- 23 inches
Weight- 70lbs
Build- lean and sturdy with plenty of underlying muscle that is rarely seen. Her breed was bred for power and endurance and she is just that with a delicate strength hidden beneath waves of fur.
Scent- Natural forest/ herbal scents
Walk- gentle with a slight bounce in each step as if exited about something
Run- a sort of lope. She is quick when bounding short distances but slower when over longer stretches.
Mutations (e.g. albinism): Hetero-chromia
Deformities (e.g. splayed paw): Slight case of hip-displaysia which is common for her breed.
Appearance- She has the normal husky-like body pattern with a red "saddle" and white underbelly. Her ears are rounded slightly at the tops with little tufts of white fur on the tips. Pandora's tail is curled and feathery. Her eyes are startlingly lovely to look at; one eye is deep brown and the other is a radiant golden amber. Her mother always said her eye was gold before she looked into the heavens just after her birth- she was born stillborn and somehow managed to fight for her life. She has a claw mark on her shoulder that is hidden by mounds of fur.
Relationships- Pandora was born to Alaska (mother) and Ceasar (father). She has a sister named Delta and a brother named Archer
Offspring- she gave birth to a small litter of four when she was four years old but they were sold to other humans once they were weaned.
Habits- Pandora is extremely particular of how things are organized. She is also terribly stubborn and spunky. But underneath all that she is gentle and has an amazing ability to remain calm during chaotic situations. When it comes down to her pack's well being, she's a big "Mama Bear" and will do anything for them. Pandora is fun-loving, passionate, kind, and hopeful. She loves to laugh, always sees the bright side in things, and will do anything for anyone no matter what's going on in her own life.
Distinctive Characteristics- Pandora's voice is certainly distinctive. She has a thick northern Alaskan accent. Her vowel sounds are exaggerated as are her R's.
Other
~Morningglory~
Name- Liberty
Age- 5 years
Birthday- September fifth
Horoscope- Virgo
Gender- female
Breed- Italian greyhound
Rank- hunter
Sexual Orientation-straight
DESCRIPTION
Height
- 14lbs
Weight
- 13lbs
Build
- She has the typical slender build of her breed. She is delicate and fragile due to her thin bones and small body.
Scent
- The scent of a fireplace burning.
Walking gait- High stepping and delicate like a horse
Running gait- She runs with a double-suspension gallop and can reach a top speed of 25mph.
Altered:
nope
Infertile:
nope
Mutations (e.g. albinism):
nope
Deformities (e.g. splayed paw):
nope
Appearance
- Liberty looks exactly like a dog of her breed. She has a delicate body and slender build. She is a pale brown with a white chest and belly, white stockings on all legs, a white muzzle/ stripe down between her eyes, and a white tip on her tail. Her whip-like tail is bend slightly due to breaking it. She has big, almond-colored eyes.
Relationships
- Mother- Rose, Father- unknown.
Offspring
- none
Habits
- Liberty is fun-loving, passionate, kind, and hopeful. She loves to laugh, always sees the bright side in things, and will do anything for anyone no matter what's going on in her own life.
She is very kind to others and will talk to everyone- especially if they look lonely. She can sometimes be spunky and scatterbrained which gets her into trouble. Liberty is very gentle- much like a mother is with her kits. However, she's not afraid of barking orders to cats. Liberty has a terrible fear of water as she nearly drowned once as a puppy.
Other
- Due to her build, she is a great hunter. She hunts mostly by sight due to her incredible sense of sight.
~Morningglory~
Name Fortissimo
Age
-4
Birthday
- June seventh
Horoscope
- gemini
Gender
- male
Breed
- American pitbull- rednose variation
Rank
- patrol
Sexual Orientation
- straight
DESCRIPTION
Height
- 19 in
Weight
- 60lbs
Build
- He is a solid mass of muscle
Scent
- warm leather
Gait
Walk
- he walks with the typical bull-dog waddle. He's such a big dog and a solid mass that the earth almost shakes with his walk.
Run
- he runs with a heavy bounding gait at a top speed of 25mph
Altered:
no
Infertile:
no
Mutations (e.g. albinism):
no
Deformities (e.g. splayed paw): no
Appearance
- Fortissimo is large, strongly built dog. He is a chocolate brown in color with white points on his legs, tail-tip, and chest. His almond-shaped eyes are a bright blue. True to his breed, Fortissimo's nose is a russet color.
Relationships
- unknown
Offspring
- he sired one litter but didn't get to meet his children
Habits
- Fortissimo is fun-loving and always eager to please. He cares for others, especially pups, and will do anything to protect his pack.
~Morningglory~
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Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2016 21:08:31 GMT -5
Lad
Name: Lad Byname(s): N/A Age: 4 years, 10 months Birthday: November 6th, 2011 Horoscope: Scorpio Gender: M Breed: Whippet Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Gender Orientation: Cisgender male Rank: Alpha Appearance: Physically, Lad is your average whippet: He’s a running powerhouse, with a stiff, robust body and limbs built for speed and agility. He’s covered in soft, sleek, glossy black fur that suddenly changes to white on the underbelly. His head and snout are slender and angular. His eyes are like pools of black liquid, tinged with brown near the outermost edges, and his ears are your average “rose ears”, in that they fold midway, soft and velvety in texture. His long, skinny tail is usually positioned near his hindquarters, as it is unnatural for his breed to do otherwise. His back curves up like an arch, four limber legs holding up his arching spine like elegant columns. Scent: New leather & cinnamon Height: 21 inches (at the withers) Weight: 28 lbs. Build: Fleet, slender, lightweight Altered? No Infertile? No Personality: Businesslike—Lad perceives everything in a businesslike manner, a characteristic that hinders him from keeping a long-term friendship for what others see as awkwardness or rudeness.
Logical—see above ↑
Resilient—even if times are hard, Lad will push on without complaint.
Stoic—Lad’s emotions hardly ever show except through his violence. He is never visibly happy or sad; his expression generally remains a blank slate.
Steadfast—Lad is a relatively steadfast dog, once he has deemed you worthy of his loyalty.
Tactical—Lad must take the time to map out his plans before he puts them into effect.
Cautious—Lad has a cautious approach to everything, which can sometimes be more of a hindrance than a help.
Alert—Lad is always on the alert, given his experience.
Honest—despite his general awfulness, Lad cannot tell a lie. However, his honesty can sometimes take the form of downright coldness, which can make it a bad thing in some circumstances.
Brazen—Lad is bold and unrefined. He will say anything he wishes, regardless of the consequences.
Streetwise—Lad is skillful in the realm of survival. If you’re in a tight corner and he’s willing to help you, he might just give you his aid. Consider yourself lucky if Lad finds you worthy enough for his effort.
Jumpy—Lad is unused to physical contact, and thus will jump if you do so much as unintentionally brush him.
Stingy—Lad is unwilling to share physical possessions, although he will give advice if prompted to do so.
Unforgiving—once you have committed a crime against him or otherwise gone against him, Lad will not forgive or trust you.
Forthright—Lad is straightforward and sharp-tongued. He is unafraid to insult others through indirect jabs or through flat-out insults, which can endanger him at times.
Superstitious—Lad is a superstitious dog, to the point where he will go so far as to suspect even his most loyal comrades.
Untrusting—Lad is especially untrusting of unfamiliar dogs or dogs with shady pasts. He will often take extreme measures in order to ensure that these dogs aren’t up to any funny business.
Assertive—Lad is quite dominant. He will jab at others relentlessly until they cower at his feet.
Foulmouthed—Lad will often swear for no reason. It’s a way he gives vent to his emotions.
Cold—Lad will make a show of yelling when he's frustrated or annoyed, but when he's truly angry, he will be aloof. Alignment: Lawful Neutral Abilities: Quick runner Habits: Will swear or insult when provoked or angry Relationships: Brimstone—At first, Lad didn't like Brimstone at all. But he'd always been a little confused as to how he felt about the shepherd mix, and this confusion eventually turned to lust—then love. Lad trusts Brimstone enough to even make physical contact with him, and that's saying something. Offspring: None Backstory: I, then dubbed Pup #5, was brought up in a kennel. My litter's bloodline was noted to be one of the most prestigious, with prized show dogs, stud dogs, and competitors constituting most of our ancestry. It was because of this that passersby often paused to admire us, a mother with her litter of 6. I found the entire thing quite doltish, but made no move to protest as they crooned at me from the other side of the bars; they weren’t worth my effort. We were weaned from our dam’s milk at the age of 7 weeks. I, being one of the smallest, was thought to be unhealthy by the breeders; they considered detaching me from my mother at a later date, but decided against it, for my dam was growing ever-impatient as the days passed, as though longing to rid herself of the squirmy, furry burdens that were her offspring. The dam, my siblings and I were released into a soft enclosure shortly thereafter. We frolicked within the boundaries for a while, and were later returned to our kennel. The next day, this ritual was mimicked, only with the sire instead of the dam; little did the breeders know that freeing the sire was a mistake, and a fatal one, at that. The sire was a crazed dog, a mad dog, though the People did not know this, for the sire was docile toward them. Such crazed a dog was he that when my dam flirted with him through the bars, I feared for her life. He was as good to them as all of his lineage, which is my lineage as well, though I am ashamed to say it; but he was a cunning, stealthy, deranged creature toward his fellow dogs. I could not believe that my dam had even obliged to mate with him. Anyhow, I had been familiarized with my father’s absurd mutterings at a young age, for he had always lived in the neighboring bungalow. I had grown used to the muttered musings of the strange dog, for my father was always mumbling, no matter the time of day; he sometimes even muttered in slumber. And yet, seeing the sire out and about gave me dizzying unease. This dog was snakelike by nature, that I knew, and he certainly seemed to live up to that nature as he poised to strike in the outermost part of the receptacle. But this predatory behavior didn’t seem to rouse any unease in the breeders, who continued to caw animatedly to one another a short length away, oblivious to my father’s insanity. I forgot my misgivings as I gamboled with my siblings, my father still crouching in the corner. It was a pleasurable thing to be a lively youth, liberated from worry and suspicion by play. But the sire had chosen his victim; me, the smallest of the litter, probably thought to be “impure of blood”, given my puny stature. He’d be “doing me a favor” if he killed me, was what he probably thought, given his viciousness. So he waited for me, the worthless, miniscule runt of the lot, to stray too near. . . . Then he attacked. Hunching forward in a pounce, he snagged me, his son, on a claw and proceeded to flip me onto my back, clawing, snarling, and snapping as fiercely as though it were prey he was ambushing, not his heir, not his descendant. I clawed weakly at him, but could not escape what I believed to be my downfall. The breeders, my siblings, and my dam stood by, too dumbstruck to aid me but scared, confused and subdued all the same. I could already feel the blackness closing in on me, for indeed, I was verging death— Sturdy hands grabbed my sire, pulling the crazed cur away; one of the breeders had apparently come to his senses. The remaining People stood by, openmouthed, and my siblings and dam cowered behind them, but only minutes later did they make to help me, lying there like a lazily discarded piece of rubbish. They took the sire, some tearful, others revolted-looking. They did not need a Temperament Test to decide whether the sire and I were unstable; the sire had (unexpectedly) proven himself insane by starting the fight to begin with, and I, naught but a pup, had branded myself aggressive in refusing to yield. The sire would be euthanized, but the People believed that disposal would suffice for me. Didn’t they know how much agony they were causing me, a bloodied, mangled pup? I suppose they didn’t, because that was the way their minds worked. They just didn’t have the capacity for such humility. They seemed uncertain and scared as they scooped me up, as though unsure whether it was fair to punish me so cruelly, but I did not care. All I desired was to be freed of my pain, a need they would not deliver, however much I whined and begged. They plopped me down beside a Dumpster, then drove away in their automobile. Fur clumped with blood, flies covering my wounds, every rattling breath caused me more pain than the last, and the furls of smoke that whipped my face as they retreated did not improve my pitiful state. I could feel myself slipping into the abyss, but welcomed this new development, however fearsome. I heard a sudden rustling, then a heavy footfall. Cupped hands scooped me up; I could feel myself ascending. “Hey there, little fella . . . .” Loving, compassionate hands cradled me, and I relaxed. Rosemary. I could sense her name, sense her intentions. And, although I had lost most of my drive to live in the brutal skirmish I had had with my father, I knew I would hold on for this Human, and this Human alone. * * * “I’m sorry I have to do this to you, Little Fella,” said Rosemary quietly. “But I can’t afford to care for you anymore, can’t afford the vet bills . . . . I’m sorry. I tried my best.” She passed me to another set of arms, paler and hairier. I sniffed at the boxy face above. “How’d you find him?” asked Jeremy, reserved yet understanding. “I was Dumpster diving,” she said, sounding close to tears. “Some jerks had left him to rot with the garbage, why I don’t know. . . . He’s such a good, smart dog . . . .” “This is Jeremy. . . .” she told me. “. . . . He’ll take care of you,” she finished after what I sensed was an internal struggle, albeit blankly. Then I was moving, moving away from Rosemary, my only true Safeguarded, the only Human deserving of my protection. . . . I didn’t understand. Scared and confused, I bawled for her, screamed for her, but she had already turned away, tearful visage buried in her cupped hands. * * * Jeremy tied my lead to the metal pillar. “I’ll be back,” he said promisingly, then vanished into the building, which was somehow constituted entirely of glass panes. As if I’ll be waiting for you, I thought angrily, remembering Rosemary. But even then I had to admit that he was a goodhearted, noble Human—nobler than the Human who was about to reveal her ugly face to me for the first time. A scent snagged in my nostrils, a familiar one. I recognized the scent of the Human who had been following us for days. It was just my luck that she had to show up then, when I was hopelessly vulnerable. A few passersby turned their heads questioningly as Arabella tugged the lead from the pillar, wrinkly body tensed with concentration, but none intervened, and the thief prevailed. “Git on, dog!” she spat, chuffing unpleasantly, then dragged me away from Jeremy, my last hope . . . . * * * “Fifty dollars!” caterwauled Arabella, an invigorated expression on the hideous face that so resembled a wrinkled citrus. I stood there, head lowered, my lead of chains roped around her hand, sighing silently. As soon as the man nodded, Arabella tugged the chain from her fingers and practically threw me into the pit, despite my bemused growl, yet I was not surprised by this happening, nor was I the least bit shocked by the cruelty with which she minded me. I had been through this ritual many a time before: she would force me into the arena or onto the track, I would do whatever the setting called for, and it would all be over; then she would force-feed me nasty spoils for supper and lock me in the cupboard for the night. It was just one of the ways Arabella, who lived paycheck to paycheck, drew in spare cash. And yet, no matter how poor, I could never empathize with Arabella, my captor, the bane of my existence, even if she were to have a change of heart. I faced my opponent, a mongrel through and through. She was a feral dog that had been snatched from her preferred habitat, a deserted alleyway. She snarled at me and I grabbed hold of her curled jaw, growling, snarling, shrieking; the sleazy spectators jeered and hooted. Only when I was in the arena, a slight depression in the concrete filled with gravel and dust, could I give vent to my emotions without having a gun pointed at my face. Then I realized, like I always did at this point in the fight, aggression, a twisted form of entertainment, was what the gamblers longed for; that was why they had pitted me against other dogs many times before: Cato, the mangled Pit Bull; Hercules, the towering, black-furred Poodle; Rogue, the venerated Dogue de Bordeaux, whose body was regarded with contempt in the end; Chief, the search-and-rescue dog turned fighter; Lucky, the scarred, desperate mutt . . . . All of whom I had killed or maimed . . . . And now, I was faced with this unnamed opponent, and I had the choice: I could kill her or I could choose not to— I lashed out at the lady (the spectators gasped dumbly before me), stretching out my neck, and, being a barbaric sneak, she took her chance: She grabbed my throat. I kicked and thrashed, forgetting any pretense of skill; the crowd burst into a series of cheers and whistles. My crazed opponent snarled unintelligible curses and threats into my ear as she bore me down. Wild-eyed, I screamed with pain as she grabbed my tail and nearly disemboweled it; the spectators yelled uproariously at the enlivened spectacle. I pushed her off and, limbs entangled, we clashed. We stood on our hind paws, grabbing snout, ear and flesh in our jaws, bawling and howling and barking viciously. Then the fighting drew to an abrupt halt as she dropped down. She had had the same realization that occurred to me each time I fought, and yet I did not perceive this sudden vulnerability as an opportunity for defeat. Instead I stood there, silent, watchful. The crowd booed and yelled, some poising to leave, others shoving their fellows aside to get a better view of what was happening. Arabella staggered to the front and slopped some Intoxicator down my fur, and I shook the liquid off, cringing in revulsion at the briny stench that wafted into my nostrils. “WHAT’S THE HOLDUP?!” she barked, leaning unsteadily to one side; some of the gamblers laughed, and one attempted to steady her, but Arabella pushed her unceremoniously away. I shrugged slightly, but, like all People, she was too ignorant to notice. She stepped into the Intoxicator-soaked arena and forcefully kicked my side, and I yipped sharply, recoiling; all of the gamblers laughed this time. My opponent, foaming slightly at the mouth, stepped in front of me as though protecting me, and I thanked her in a croaky whisper, but she seemed not to notice. Arabella cackled rapturously, as though joying in the dreariness of the scene. “LOOK AT THIS TRASH!” she screamed in a volume that suggested a poltergeist was hovering right in front of her. “THE FIGHTER HAS A GIRLFRIEND! ONE OF YOU GET A CAMERA!” No one made any move to get whatever a “camera” was, but a few laughed. “THANK YOU!” announced Arabella disquietingly several minutes later, even though no one had retrieved the “camera”. Then she fainted; this time, it was I who was humored. * * * I had laughed when she had fainted. It had all seemed well, until the bullet had grazed my side . . . . The feral dog had fled, but only after whispering a garbled snippet in my ear. . . . “Die in vain” . . . . But I had lay there, injured . . . . I had felt as though I was going to die, just as I had when I was a young pup, lolling beside the Dumpster . . . . Then the authorities had come . . . . They had heard the gunfire, and had disapproved of what the gamblers were doing, evidently . . . . They had taken Arabella and her cronies away, and she had yelled, “I DIDN’T MEAN IT!” . . . . I was the next to go, not to prison, but to a place the People had called the Emergency Animal Hospital . . . . Now I was in a sterile room, with glaring white lights lancing my eyes . . . . The pain was gone, and of that I was relieved, but I was also frightened, for the first time in my life. The mysteriousness of my whereabouts spooked me. And, although I could smell People, there were none in the room, strangely enough, none mending the numerous wounds I had received in the duel or the yawning cavity that had been made by the bullet . . . I sniffed the air warily, shocked to detect a faint but familiar scent. This was the scent that had wafted from the carcasses of my victims, but this death was not of dogs, but of People . . . . The People were dead, and I was trapped in an unfamiliar room . . . .
Woodrow
Name: Woodrow Bynames: Woody (close friends and Safeguarded) Age: 4 years Birthday: November 1st Horoscope: Scorpio Gender: M Sexual Orientation: Homosexual Gender Orientation: Cisgender male Breed: Maltese/Yorkshire terrier mix Rank: Patrol Captain Appearance: Woodrow has a robust torso, with a deep, voluminous chest and moderately long legs with longer–than–normal hair covering the “elbows”. His coat is shaggy and wavy, curly in a few places, and grows very rapidly, to the point where he will sometimes have to bite it off in order to manage it. His densely-packed undercoat is a creamy shade of white, while the loose, billowy outer fur is pigmented with pale shades of cream, brown, tan and white, with coarser dark brown hairs ticking and brindling many spots. He has two tufts of fur protruding from above each of his eyes like eyebrows and exceptionally long, black eyelashes. His ears are loose and floppy and will grow hair in a poodle-like way, while the contours of his snout and chin are obstructed by his trademark “goatee” and moustache. The sides of his face are covered with splayed hairs that give his head a strangely dinner plate–like shape, while the skull and snout are somewhat narrow, albeit not very, underneath. Woodrow has stiff, black whiskers growing on various places including his chin, cheeks, and “brow tufts” (eyebrows), and his nose and eyes are both black. His claws are largely melanistic, although one or two are either a pale tan or a snail shell brown. His paw pads, or “footpads,” are weathered and brown, with faint hints of black and pink in some places, and the paws themselves resemble “cat feet,” meaning they are relatively compact, albeit covered with shaggy fur, which gives them the appearance of “hare feet.” The underside, or downward-facing side of his curly tail is lined with feathery white plumages, giving it a “plumed” appearance. Scent: Sylvan, with dewy leaves Height: 8 inches Weight: 13 lbs. Build: Stocky but with evenly distributed weight; wiry; agile Altered? Yes Infertile? No Personality: Stalwart—You can trust Woodrow to be honest and loyal, although he is often (unintentionally) unreliable.
Arrogant—Woodrow is arrogant, not in a rude, sniveling way, but in a way that comes naturally to him. In spite of this, he is a good–intentioned dog and would never wrong anyone, at least not intentionally.
Resourceful—Woodrow is a good food scavenger, often eating berries, blossoms, carrion, and leaves. And, although he isn’t exactly smart, he has a knack for invention and innovation, always forging new mechanisms that help him to survive in the harsh new world he has found himself in.
Pessimistic—Since the Epidemic, Woodrow has begun to fear the worst for every situation. The change in environment seems to have taken a toll on him, for better or for worse.
Gregarious—Woodrow is sociable, to say the least. He is merely companionable once you get used to him, but he is otherwise a crazed maniac who longs despairingly for the security of companionship.
Hyperactive—Woodrow is manic, to say the least. He will often burst into running spells without warning, and thus you will often see him tearing frenziedly about, as well as hear his frantic panting. These spells may last up to an hour. Other spells include, but are not limited to, writhing and squirming around and abruptly tackling others.
Over–trusting—Woodrow is, unfortunately, given to trusting others without thinking twice. This may be due to either his innocence or his intuitiveness.
Ungenerous—In spite of his otherwise good quality, Woodrow lacks generousness. He is slow to share and is inclined protect his food and other belongings from other dogs, whether friend or foe.
Unskilled—Woodrow is unlearned in most fields of knowledge, with the exception of sniffing out prey and intruders.
Immature—Woodrow is best known for his puppyish nature, which shows in his hyperactivity.
Intuitive—Woodrow relies on his instinct, which is almost always inaccurate. This means he has a lot of fallacies and is inclined to misinterpret things. Some label him as unintelligent because of this, which may or may not be true—he has a record for injudiciousness.
Forgiving—Woodrow forgives others too easily. He’s always willing to give others a second chance. Backstory: I lived my first days in an outdoor puppy mill. My mother was very sick, having been rained and snowed on in countless instances. The People, oblivious to the illness of their main breeding stock, refrained from giving her the least bit of medical attention. She later died, her pups still suckling from her belly as she did. At 6 weeks old, way too young an age to be sold, I was transported to a 'puppy boutique' via shady-looking van. The People who owned the shop were well-meaning, but also, unfortunately, misinformed, handling the smallest pups rather carelessly. Many a pup was dropped during that time, their bones snapping in funny ways as they hit the floor, and I was eventually left with only two extremely fragile siblings. I pounced on one of them thinking it would like to play only to crush it completely under my superior weight. I don't know how I feel about myself after that. I had temperamental issues, they would later discover. I never listened to any human being, doing my business anywhere I pleased and tearing up whatever the hell I wanted, and I often bit or snapped for no reason. Frustrated, the People lowered my sale price, longing to get me off their hands, but I still did not go. I was eventually taken to a shelter, where I was adopted quite quickly by a little girl, who called me Buddy. I later revealed myself a nuisance, and the girl's parents just could not handle me financially, as I have a wide range of medical problems, including acid reflux, which prevented me from eating regular dog food. The family entered 'Buddy' on Petfinder and many other websites and I went rather quickly. My new owner, an elderly woman, called me Woodrow when the name randomly came to mind. I loved the elderly woman, called Gladys. Gladys understanded and accepted me, unlike the little girl and her rude family, who would yell at me and hit me and scare me whenever I did something 'wrong'. There were many other dogs where Gladys lived as well, as she kept them on her ranch. And though many of the dogs despised me, I managed to acquaint myself with a few without getting myself ripped to shreds. They were unpopular with the others when this was revealed, but I was happy to have someone on my side. I was happy on the ranch, but when Gladys had a heart attack, I panicked. I fled through the doggie door and squalled for help, and a distant neighbor eventually came and called 911 when Gladys didn't show up for their daily lunch. I was championed a hero, much to my liking, and spent the next few weeks lounging with Gladys, vowing never to take her presence for granted again. When the Epidemic hit, I thought it was just another heart attack. But he noticed something was different when I cried out for help and no one ever arrived. I sat patiently baying for many hours, but gave up when no one showed. I grimly retreated to the farmhouse only to discover that Gladys was utterly dead. In fact, she had even begun to putrefy in that short amount of time. My heart slammed against my ribcage. I was in utter shock, the grief so great I couldn't comprehend it. I rushed to the backyard. The ranch dogs jumped the fences when I told them the news, but only after grim and negative stares, all accusing. It was as if I had killed Gladys myself. My fellows promptly fled in scattered packs. I sought one that I could join but was not welcomed by even my alliances, so I left a loner. I fed off of rats and vermin for a few days, slowly but steadily honing my survival skills. Habits: Stands on hind legs when anxious Distinctive Traits: Fluffy face, curly tail, wide vocal range Other: N/A
Blitz
Name: Blitz Bynames: N/A Age: 4 years, 2 months Birthday: January 28 Horoscope: Aquarius Gender: Female Breed: English Setter Rank: Hunter Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Gender Orientation: Cisgender female Appearance: Blitz is the classic colored English Setter with a white coat that is covered in black dots. One could almost mistake her for a Dalmatian, but her semi-long coat and powerful build differentiate her from her distant cousins. On her chest and belly her fur is longer, giving the illusion of fluff. Her long tail is stark white and the fur falls off like feathers. The black fur on her ears hang over the end making it look like a waterfall of hair. Her head is oval shaped and her chest is rounded. Her eyes are a gorgeous shade of amber. Height: 25 inches from shoulder to ground Weight: 58 pounds Build: Long and lean Scent: Morning Dew Gait: Bouncy trot Walk: Purposeful saunter Run: Rapid strides Altered: No Infertile: No Personality: Blitz is an easygoing female that who just goes with the flow. She loves her job as a Hunter as that was what she was bred and taught to do from birth. She doesn't like when things get too serious and will usually try to lighten the situation. The only time that she is really serious is on a hunt. By nature she isn't confrontational and so if something upsets her, she will push it down to the deepest parts of her. She would rather not say anything to that dog that upset her then to create an awkward situation. She cares deeply for her fellows (even the grumpy and insane ones) and would do literally anything for them. She tends to be airheaded at times, but she tries her best to pay attention, especially if a superior is taking to her. When she becomes sad, she shuts down; when she becomes angry (which takes a lot to do), she blows up in a fit of rage, releasing all the emotions that she has kept inside. Relationships: She trusts her Alpha and Beta to a fault. However, she tries to keep a constant eye on the scouts as she wouldn't want to be caught off guard by a challenge. It is to her advantage to know who is hungry for power. Offspring: She mothered one litter almost a year and a half ago, but hasn't seen them since her Safeguarded gave them away. Habits: If she is stressed, she will go out and "hunt" for birds (it's more like running into the flock and scattering them just like old times). When overly agitated or worried, she will mumble to herself. Distinctive Characteristics: Her feathery tail. Backstory: WIP
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Post by lozi on Nov 1, 2016 21:09:22 GMT -5
GAYLE'S (Hiraeth) CHARACTERS
BRIMSTONE - AUSSIE - BETA
Name: Brimstone Age: 3 years Birthday: October 31st Horoscope: Scorpio
Gender: M Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Gender Orientation: Cis Male Breed: Australian Shepherd x Husky Rank: Beta
DESCRIPTION Height: 27 Weight: 55 lbs Build: Heavy, Muscular Scent: Gunpowder Gait: Trot Altered: No Infertile: No Deformities (e.g. splayed paw): Heterochromia
Appearance: • Blue Left Eye, Brown Left Eye • Thick, longer fur on neck, chest, back, tail, and underbelly. Short fur on head and legs. • Blue merle covering on back, ears, and are above eyes. • Tan on back legs, coloring below eyes. • White neck, chest, muzzle, blaze down forehead, front legs, tail, and back paws.
Personality: Brimstone is very cold and aloof towards those he doesn't know, and has a very business-like manner. He is very straight-to-the-point, to the point that he can seem very blunt. He doesn't sugar coat things, and can be rather cruel at times. He does not hesitate to give swift justice to those that anger him, and commonly will lash out at those who threaten him.
Backstory: Brimstone was a second litter to an esteemed showdog couple of purebred Australian Shepherds. However, when his dame got loose on the streets briefly, she met a sled-dog husky, and the two had a second pair of pups. From his young age, Brimstone was stolen by a thief looking for money, knowing a dog like him couldn't be a showdog, even if he was a purebred, due to his heterochromia. As the thief had predicted, he was not missed, and the rest of his litter was disposed of with... inhumane methods. Had Brimstone not had been taken, he may not have been spared. He was then sold to a tunnel-fighter, and spent his life in the tunnels, in dog-fights. He was released by Lad, and helped to form the Pack.
Relationships: Open Offspring: None Habits: Often lashes out, incredibly dominant. Distinctive Characteristics: Flag-like tail, thicker fur. Other: N/A
PARKER - BULL TERRIER - SENTINEL
Name: Parker Byname: Parks, Jet Age: 3 years Birthday: April 1st Horoscope: Aries
Gender: M Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Gender Orientation: Cis Male Breed: Bull Terrier Rank: Sentinel
DESCRIPTION Height: 10 in Weight: 72 lbs Build: Heavy set, Powerful Scent: Leather Gait: Short, swift Altered: No Infertile: No Mutations (e.g. albinism): N/A Deformities (e.g. splayed paw): N/A
Appearance • Typical Bull Terrier Characteristics: Egg Shaped head, broad chest, large nose, docked tail • Solid black, white paws, white heart shape on chest.
Personality: Parker is a friendly dog who loves to help anyone he can. He holds his honesty in pride, and always tries to fulfill any deals or promises he makes. He can be charming, and tries to protect those who need it.
Backstory: Parker was a street-dog since the day he was born, scavenging whenever he was hungry. He never had a particularly sad life, having grown up with his two litter mates, and leaving the nest when he was ready to explore.
Relationships: Open Offspring: None Habits: He's a charmer, and loves to socialize others. Distinctive Characteristics: Solid Jet Black Other: N/A
SATO - AKITA - PATROLLER
Name: Sato Byname: Sugar (English Translation of Name) Age: 4 ½ Years Birthday: July 13 Horoscope: Cancer
Gender: Female Sexual Orientation: heterosexual Gender Orientation: Cis Female Breed: Akita Inu Rank: Patroller Sexual Orientation: Straight, Uninterested
DESCRIPTION Height: 25 inches Weight: 83 lbs Build: Stocky, Fluffy Scent: The moment before a thunderstorm Gait: Bouncy, swift Walk: Carefully held pride Run: Swift, wide strides Altered: Yes
Appearance Her fur is short, and well kept. Her legs are lanky, making up most of her height. Her circular head is crowned by perfectly triangular ears. Her paws have tall-bridging toes, and her tail curls into a tight coil on her back. Her fur is silky soft, and adorned by a unique red and silver brindle markings. White splashes on her paws, and muzzle, and the underside of her tail. Cream colors on her chest, and muzzle. Her fur maintains a majority of red brindle, on her back, top of her head, shoulders, and outer upper legs. Silver brindle coats her underbelly, lower legs above the socks, inner legs, chest, and face.
Personality: Sato is very tough, and enjoys having company of others. She likes to 'wrestle with the big dogs' per se, as she enjoys doing tasks that normally bigger dogs would be expected to do. It bothers her to see dogs who don't carry her own weight, and is very productive when she puts her mind to it.
Backstory: Sato lived happily with an elderly couple, but was confined to a small backyard, as her People didn't get out much. Now that she isn't tied down by a leash, she is eager to explore the whole world.
Relationships Since her family has recently moved to the city, she knows few dogs, but is eager to make friends. Habits Has a very no nonsense air to her. She is straight to the point Distinctive Characteristics Unique Markings ~Ɓαттℓє Scαяѕ~
BECKER - BASENJI - INITIATE
Name: Becker Byname: Becca, Becs Age: 10 months Birthday: January 23 Horoscope: Aquarius Gender: F Breed: Basenji Rank: Initiate Sexual Orientation: heterosexual Gender Orientation: Cis Female
DESCRIPTION Height: 13 inches (not fully grown) Weight: 17 lbs (not fully grown) Build: Light, Deer-like, slim Scent: Ginger Roots Gait: Quick paced, short strides Altered: No
Appearance Becca is a dark reddish and white color, that adorns her sleek, lithe form. Her legs are long, and she has very little arch in her toes. For the most part she is ginger-red, the color covers her head, back, shoulders, and back legs down to her socks. The rest, her back socks, chest, neck, and stockings on her front feet are white. Her eyes are a dark brown, almost black color. The tip of her tail is white. Being a former leashed dog, she has a unique collar, with leather on the back of her neck, and chain around the front, for a strong yet comfortable collar.
Personality: Becca is very playful, but resents many humans, and is very prone to attack beasts. She loves living in a pack, and doesn't mind being pushed around by other dogs.
Backstory: Becca was a dog from the pound, who was adopted by People with young offspring. When her family left, it hurt her very deeply, causing a strong rift between her and the human species.
Habits Often expresses emotions by her face. Distinctive Characteristics Bright coloring, strong ginger scent. ~Screen Name~
RHAPSODY - FRENCH BULLDOG - DREDGE
Name: Rhapsody Byname: Dosido, Raps, Dee, Frenchie (Normally by her superiors) Age: 3 years Birthday: August 25th Horoscope: Virgo Gender: F Breed: French Bulldog Rank: Dredge Sexual Orientation: Straight Gender Orientation: Cis Female
DESCRIPTION Height: 12 inches Weight: 18 lbs Build: Short, stocky, squat Scent: Cinnamon Gait: Slow, short strided Walk: Swaying from side to side Run: Seesaw motion from front to back Altered: Yes
Appearance A light chestnut color, her fur is short, growing not even an inch from her skin. Her ears are large, and bat like, shadowing a wrinkled, flat face. The only change of color is the slightest white on her chest, and her black muzzle. She is very low to the ground, and can often look disgruntled due to her flattened, wrinkled face.
Personality: Rhapsody is very energetic, sometimes moving faster than her little legs can handle. She is constantly wary of other dogs, since they are always bigger than her and tend to push her around a bit. She never puts up a fight when other dogs need a punching bag, though sometimes hides when the dogs with bad tempers are in camp. She is very bright, and always tries to help when she can, since she can't hunt or fight.
Backstory: Rhapsody lived with one male human in an apartment, a musician. She was content, and a lap dog, but was forced to flee her utopia when the disease took over her once beautiful and soothing musician.
Relationships The Pack: She joined the pack merely for survival, and is incredibly submissive. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance in moving up the ranks by fighting, she’d be flattened before a second passed. She often times finds herself scrambling away from the busy paws of other dogs, and finds herself often the superiors’ punching bag for all their frustration. She can’t do anything about it, for fear of being kicked from the pack, and dying, and not being able to fight back. Habits When particularly upset, her breathing quickens, causing her to snort. Distinctive Characteristics Tininess, if you can notice her in the crowd! Other ~Screen Name~
EDGE - AMERICAN PITBULL - RECRUIT
Name: Edge Byname: Try him. You won’t come out very well. Age: 4 years Birthday: October 27 Horoscope: Scorpio Gender: M Breed: American Pitbull Rank: Recruit Sexual Orientation: Straight Gender Orientation: Cis Male
DESCRIPTION Height: 20 in Weight: 67 lbs Build: Stocky, Muscular, Threatening, Tankish Scent: Anger, and other dogs’ fear Gait: long, unworried, challenging Walk: prideful, purposeful Run: Tracking, swift Altered: No
Appearance Edge is a beautiful pitbull, with battle cropped (style) ears. He’s a striking blue-grey color, with a white splash on his chest. Immense muscles bulge under his pelt, making it mountainous, with several divots in his flank. His eyes are grey, and serious, always assessing others around him.
Personality: Edge is very wary of every dog, and constantly ready to spring into fight. He enjoys protecting others, since it gives him a feeling of purpose.
Backstory: Being a former guard dog for a vigilante, he was trained under the highest standards, and is wary of everything that moves. He was constantly on war on drugs and would go after the criminals that his master was hired to return to the state police. He is depressed from losing his master to the disease, feeling he has failed to protect him.
Habits Quick to defend those that need him Quick to anger, and attack Spectacular at following commands, when he wants to. ~Screen Name~
NORTH - GREYHOUND - PATROLLER
Name: North Age: 1 year Birthday: Wednesday, January 7th Horoscope: Capricorn Gender: M Breed: Greyhound Rank: Patroller Sexual Orientation: (Conflicting Bi) North always thought he was straight, but recently, he's been having some second thoughts about male dogs. Gender Orientation: Cis Male
DESCRIPTION Height: 31 inches Weight: 88 pounds Build: North is built for speed, with an aerodynamic, slim body shape. He has a narrow head, long legs, and bulgingly muscular hindquarters. He has a large rib cage, encasing huge lungs, optimal for the most oxygen for sprints. His underbelly starts large with his chest and ribs, and thins towards his hind legs. Scent: Since greyhounds don't have much of a strong doggy scent, his scent must be incredibly recent in order to be detected. However, on his body and recent haunts, he has a tinge of earthiness. The combination of weak scent due to non-oily fur, and earthiness can make him very difficult to detect. Gait: An overall swift, light, trotting movement. Walk: Bouncy and light, medium length strides Run: Hyperextending spine enables longest stride possible, strong paws enable traction and grip, long legs reach forward, and muscular hindquarters propel the thin, aerodynamic body forwards. Altered: No Infertile: No
Appearance: North is a stunning dog, with his elongated muzzle, and rounded, dome-ish skull. His eyes are beautiful, blazing cinammon. His fur is very short, not even an inch grown from his skin, but makes a pattern common to black greyhound known as snowflaking. His muscles are constantly rippling under his thin pelt. North sports an ashy, charcoaly greyed black pelt with white flecks throughout. For a greyhound, he looks incredibly athletic, and muscular, especially in his hindquarters, as his breed will. His neck is thick, tapering into a sleek head and muzzle His ears are the bunched, velvety type that is a standard for greyhounds. His toes have a high bridge, and he has thick, rough pads. His tail is thin, all ashy grey, with a white tip. It is strong, and whip-like when he wags it back and forth.
Personality: North is a young dog, but that doesn't make him cower in front of older, or bigger dogs. He can be very aloof and indifferent, and dismissive to the dogs he doesn't know. However, he can be very affectionate to the dogs that he does know, and will become very protective and attached to them, almost clingy. He can be lazy, and can be prone to striking out to those who tell him what to do. He isn't very quick to trust people, but once he does, he becomes very hurt and vengeful if he finds he misplaced his trust. He has a strong feeling of urgency to feel accepted by the pack, in a way that they respect him, and don't hinder him to his fight for power. He is very ambitious, and independent. He likes a job well done. He can be very quick to anger, and often seems to jump from one emotion to another. He can be angry one moment, and completely calm next. However, don't mistake his calmness, for sometimes it can be the quiet before the storm. Overall, this dog is larger than life, protective and clingy to those he befriends, aloof to those he doesn't, ambitious, and has almost a BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) sort of temperament.
Backstory: North was a racedog for most of his life, and was one of the Champions in his league. He never got to socialize with other dogs other than racing.
Relationships Lad: Being the ambitious dog that he is, he is looking for him to either cooperate as he fights his way up the ranks, or he will go after him and his Beta himself. Brimstone: He plans to make it into hunting, and despises Brimstone for placing him into the patrolling section, when he so clearly belongs in a hunting position, maybe even hunt captain. He plans to get him back, in either a fight for the place as a Beta, or to shame him by becoming the best hunter. He knows however, that Brimstone wouldn't dare place him any lower than the Watch Captain, appointing him as the first patroller, second in patrolling to the Watch Captain. He has a suspicion that the Beta knows that he (North) could defeat him, so he places him into a low ranking. Woodrow: North is alright with the Patrol Captain, and does his best to show that he has no intent of taking his place. He enjoys talking occasionally with his superior. Woodrow is the only dog that he views as a superior, aside from the Alpha, Beta, and dames and veterans. Hunters: He views himself as an equal to them, and makes sure that they know it. April: He favors April, since she is a mother dog. He is constantly bringing her food and checking in on her.
Habits Prone to nipping smaller dogs, and when they run, he may chase them. When angered with a dog, he will whip them with his long, bony tail. Distinctive Characteristics Large, muscles. Unique snowflake patterning Tallest dog in the pack. (31 in)
~Ɓαттℓє Scαяѕ~
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Post by Panthermoon on Nov 1, 2016 22:06:34 GMT -5
Name: Harper Bynames: Harpie (by superiors) Age: 4 years, 7 months Birthday: April 2 Horoscope: Aries Gender: Female Breed: Finnish Spitz Rank: Hunter Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
DESCRIPTION Height: 1 foot, 7 inches tall at the shoulder Weight: 27 pounds Build: Slender, fleeting, lithe, strong. Square-like, longer legs than body by a small amount. Scent: Raspberries Gait: loping at a casual pace, tail curled over the hip or arched over back. Walk: Confident, step-sure. Run: Powerful and headstrong, agile Altered: No Infertile: No Mutations: None Deformities: None
Appearance: Harper has a double coat, the undercoat being short, soft, and dense, and white. The top coat is golden red, darkening to a deep auburn at her head and back. Her tail and hind legs have more fur, making them look flowy. She has white markings on the tips of her toes and a quarter-sized streak of white on her chest. Her nose and rims of her eyes are black. Her eyes are a beautiful dark brown color as well, and her ears are pointed. Relationships: None so far Offspring: None Habits: While her breed is said to be high-energy and talkative, Harper is not. She contains vast amounts of energy and is comfortable with only letting it be shown when fighting or running. She is open to talking, but uses her voice more when she is howling. She is an independent thinker, and quite stubborn at times. Fortunately, she is very intelligent and is a fast learner. She is aggressive with dogs she doesn’t know well, and is generally good among the pack. She tends to be suspicious of strangers, and makes an amazing fighter with her swift speed and agility. She can, however, be somewhat manipulative and prone to secrets and lying to get what she wants. Distinctive Characteristics: Since her undercoat is white and her top coat is auburn, she appears to be “glowing” or “on fire” in the sunlight. Other: Since birth, Harper lived in a kennel. Usually her breed was bred for sport, but she was born for money. Unfortunately, her owners did not care for her enough to take good care of her and her siblings. Two out of her three siblings died, leaving her and her brother, Leo to fend for themselves in the kennels after their mother died. Luckily, she and her brother were adopted soon after by a family of 3 People. The mother and father were kind to Harper and Leo, but the teenage boy did not appreciate the dogs because of their color. The teenager began drinking once he got into college and when Harper was 3, she watched the teenage boy drunkenly run over Leo. Harper barked and yipped, but was unable to wake the adult People in time to save her brother. He died before the People even got out of bed. When humanity crumbled six months later, Harper ran away to try and make a living on her own before joining the pack. Screen Name: Panthermoon
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Post by Deleted on Nov 2, 2016 7:28:35 GMT -5
NUUUUU I CAME TO LATE ;( Save post It doesn't have to be in order ]
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Post by lozi on Nov 2, 2016 7:30:16 GMT -5
Oh wait your post loaded the page. Thank you!
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Post by HvghDuhh on Nov 2, 2016 16:23:32 GMT -5
were can i see the allegiances?
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Post by Deleted on Nov 2, 2016 16:25:18 GMT -5
were can i see the allegiances? This is pretty much it, admittedly. I can't say I'm exactly proud of this, but this is what I settled on for convenience. And why? If you want to join, enter your application(s) here: wcrpforums.com/thread/11079/wilderness-joining-pageI can't guarantee that you'll be accepted. If you aren't, though, I will tell you your errors. ]
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Post by HvghDuhh on Nov 2, 2016 16:31:26 GMT -5
i was wondering what ranks are open....thats all.
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Post by lozi on Nov 2, 2016 17:40:13 GMT -5
@mongrel
You could have the allegiances condensed like:
Alpha: Lad | Mongrel | Whippet
Beta: Brimstone | Hiraeth. | Aussie
Etc etc
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Post by Deleted on Nov 2, 2016 21:08:17 GMT -5
@mongrel You could have the allegiances condensed like: Alpha: Lad | Mongrel | Whippet Beta: Brimstone | Hiraeth. | Aussie Etc etc Good idea ^^ ]
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Post by Panthermoon on Nov 4, 2016 10:20:52 GMT -5
Name: Poe Age: 4 years 7 months Birthday: January 19 Horoscope: Capricorn Gender: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Gender Orientation: Cisgender/Male Breed: Flat Coated Retriever Rank: Sentinel Appearance: Completely black in appearance, Poe has dark brown eyes, so dark that they could be described as coal. His head is strong, lean, and clean shaped, described as “one-piece” in style. His breed’s neck is long usually, and he has well laid back shoulders. He has a level spine and a deep, long rib cage, which narrows towards his hips to form the impression of a blunt triangle. His forchest forms a prominent prow. He is well balanced, strong, but elegant and long legged. His coat is moderately thick and flat lying, and his legs and tail are well feathered, much akin to a raven. Scent: Charcoal Height: 2 feet at the shoulder Weight: 57 pounds Build: Triangular, but lithe and graceful Altered: Not altered Infertile: Not infertile Personality: Poe is typically very solitary, unlike the usual characteristics of his breed. He is often found to be mysterious and fairly dark when he speaks. He often thinks of his own poetry and scary stories, and an air of gloom and misfortune often surrounds him. He is pessimistic, always seeing the cup half empty instead of half full. He can and often does make friends, however, and tries to keep them close to his side for personal gain. He, though cold and lonely on the outside, has a very kind and loving heart, and will rain everlasting devotion onto a lover. He also thinks himself mentally sharper than other dogs, though this may not always be the case. Backstory: Born a single pup, his life was lonely from the start. His parents were trained showdogs, not sport dogs, and died soon after he was born. They had been transferred to new owners and had been shot in the head. Poe was kept away as a pup, locked in dark cellars with an old mutt named Lenore. Lenore was Poe’s only friend for a long time, telling him stories and songs that her mother used to sing to her, which inspired Poe to think of his own dreary stories and tales. A few years passed and Lenore died of heartworms, and was buried under the floorboards of the house. Poe became depressed and even arrogant, instinctively snarling at strangers. He had to learn how to fight on his own, and does it quite well only when he needs to. Poe, taken from the cruel home at the age of 3, was taken into an animal sanctuary, but had excelled in the art of leaping to the extent that he was able to jump the fence and break free right before the Epidemic began. Habits: Poe is often seen lurking near the edge of town, scarier buildings, and the forest. He walks with his head down, but is overly alert for other dogs. Distinctive Traits: He is solid black with lots of feathering on his pelt, resembling that of an ebony raven. His nails are also quite long and unclipped, causing them to click on the ground when he walks on concrete, pavement, tile, etc. Other: Poe is not literate in human writing by any means, though he does understand concepts such as song, poetry, and stories. Panthermoon
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