The Alphas
Kevser- Female- 3.5 years- Alaskan Tundra Wolf- Alpha Female
Appearance: The base of this female’s coat is a deep cream, though it is blanketed with a few different colors. Spanning across her shoulder, back, top of the head, and tail, is a black hue. A deep, dusky, red color can be seen on her ears and on the top of the head, peeking out strongly from the black cast. Her legs and underbelly consist of a dark cream that is mixed with a small amount of red hairs. Her eyes are rounded and intelligent, the irises being a burnt brown color. Her eyes, though they appear innocent, will darken with anger. She is not a massive wolf, though she isn’t petite either. While her bones are rather average in size, her musculature is a little thicker than is normally seen in a female. She is compact, weighing in at around 100 pounds.
Personality: Kevser can be a hardened wolf, not being sympathetic to weakness. Her past taught her that the only way to keep her family alive was to harbor only strong members. Those weak enough to be useless would be cast from the pack. She is very dominant and does expect submission from all members. She growls or attacks those who will not provide that submission. While she can be aggressive, she also is soft and thoughtful. This will not be shown in times of stress, but when it comes to the tender moments of feeding pups or pack bonding, she is very kind. This may help her earn respect while also keeping her close to the group. Being raised as she was, she believes whole-heartedly in the need to have a tight-knit family. Kevser also is rather tormented by her failures, and will beat herself down for the things she cannot provide. She will never seek out help, nor will she willing accept it, but often times, it is the words of her family that reassure her that she is a worthy leader. This female is actively searching for a mate, for she is well aware that the pack needs pups for survival. However, she is not a flirt and is very abrupt, seeking only someone who can enforce their tight-knit family and provide for healthy pups. She looks at things very logically, and may not see the need to ‘court’, or flirt. Therefore, she is not very charming, and can be a little dense to jokes or sarcasm. She takes everything literally. Nonetheless, she will likely need a massive charmer to cut through her logical mind and appeal to her small, hidden emotions.
History: Kevser was raised in a small, tight knit pack, consisting of her parents, two uncles, an aunt, an unrelated male, and her littermates. The pack helped to raise her and her siblings, lovingly providing for the pack’s future with adequate training and food. The pack was a true family, one unit working in unison to care for each other. Their only problem was their size. In the midst of a boom of abundant prey in her first year of life, pack sizes around Northern Alaska grew. Her own family’s numbers did not grow however, due to the fact that the majority of their litters in the past had been wiped out by distemper. So, Kevser’s pack struggled to defend their territory. It was being constantly intruded upon, due also to the fact that a lake, being a great water source, sat in the middle of their home. It came down to one stormy, dusk evening however, at the borders of Kevser’s pack’s territory along the ocean shore line, that really tested the group. They were scouting the area to check for intruders when they happened upon a large pack within their midst, 13 members strong. A battle ensued, a bad judgment call on the alpha pair, for their own pack was clearly outnumbered. Her parents had been exasperated from the constant pressure of rival wolves though, and they were not willing to back down now. The wind whipped through the area, carrying the sounds of snarls and clacking teeth over the waves of the sea. Kevser, being a mere yearling, was scared out of her wits, and was still too small to take on a mature wolf in a fight. So, she ran. She was blinded by the curtain of wind and rain, causing her to panic. Desperately, she crashed out into the rampant tide, effectively avoiding the teeth of the rivals, but facing a new danger all together, for the shore was scattered with spiraling rocks, of which the waves crashing against. Kevser struggled to keep her head above water and quickly lost sight of her grappling family. It was then that a strong wave picked up her body and slammed it against a boulder, effectively knocking her out.
Within the next two hours, Kevser woke up, quickly realizing she was washed up on the shore. She was lucky that she hadn’t drowned. She woke up next to one of her uncles, and she poked him with her nose in relief. But his flesh did not yield to her touch as it should have, and her uncle did not shift. He was dead. She looked up, and realized the carnage. The whole pack was dead, it seemed, her parents, her brothers, her aunt. Their carcasses were strewn over the smoothed pebbles, small puddles of blood marking their deaths. She had lost her family in a moment, murdered by a single decision. The only body she could not find was that of one of her littermates, a brother. To this day, she assumes that his dead vessel might have been washed to sea in the storm. Kevser stayed in her slaughtered family’s territory, wandering it like a lost ghost. Packs would temporarily assume residence there, and Kevser would be careful to avoid conflict. However, a year passed, prey quantity dwindled, and so did the reaches of other packs. It left Kevser washed up in the abandoned territory, which hardened her and caused her to grieve. She had left her family to die.
Habits: When in ‘alpha’ mode, her tendencies are the natural shows of dominance. Also, she scratches at the ground if she particularly frustrated, much like an angry bull. In ‘family’ mode, tucked away within the folds of the pack, she can be seen grooming the members. If she is worried, she will bite at her paws until they bleed.
Strengths: Kevser has considerable strength and stamina, being able to lead the pack in most hunts. She is capable of finding the physical weaknesses of others, as she is very systematic and will find errors within another wolf. She is a good decision maker, and is very loving towards respectful members.
Weakness: What she has in strength and stamina, she lacks in speed and agility. Often times, she may allow the quicker hunters to run down their prey, because she is not able to keep up as long. Once the prey is worn down, she can usually match their speed and run all day. Also, to those who are grumpy to her, she can be grumpy right back. She may have mood swings, especially during breeding season, and she may be more liable to snap. Also, any mention of her family and she becomes that ghost again, distant and wandering.
Appearance: The base of this female’s coat is a deep cream, though it is blanketed with a few different colors. Spanning across her shoulder, back, top of the head, and tail, is a black hue. A deep, dusky, red color can be seen on her ears and on the top of the head, peeking out strongly from the black cast. Her legs and underbelly consist of a dark cream that is mixed with a small amount of red hairs. Her eyes are rounded and intelligent, the irises being a burnt brown color. Her eyes, though they appear innocent, will darken with anger. She is not a massive wolf, though she isn’t petite either. While her bones are rather average in size, her musculature is a little thicker than is normally seen in a female. She is compact, weighing in at around 100 pounds.
Personality: Kevser can be a hardened wolf, not being sympathetic to weakness. Her past taught her that the only way to keep her family alive was to harbor only strong members. Those weak enough to be useless would be cast from the pack. She is very dominant and does expect submission from all members. She growls or attacks those who will not provide that submission. While she can be aggressive, she also is soft and thoughtful. This will not be shown in times of stress, but when it comes to the tender moments of feeding pups or pack bonding, she is very kind. This may help her earn respect while also keeping her close to the group. Being raised as she was, she believes whole-heartedly in the need to have a tight-knit family. Kevser also is rather tormented by her failures, and will beat herself down for the things she cannot provide. She will never seek out help, nor will she willing accept it, but often times, it is the words of her family that reassure her that she is a worthy leader. This female is actively searching for a mate, for she is well aware that the pack needs pups for survival. However, she is not a flirt and is very abrupt, seeking only someone who can enforce their tight-knit family and provide for healthy pups. She looks at things very logically, and may not see the need to ‘court’, or flirt. Therefore, she is not very charming, and can be a little dense to jokes or sarcasm. She takes everything literally. Nonetheless, she will likely need a massive charmer to cut through her logical mind and appeal to her small, hidden emotions.
History: Kevser was raised in a small, tight knit pack, consisting of her parents, two uncles, an aunt, an unrelated male, and her littermates. The pack helped to raise her and her siblings, lovingly providing for the pack’s future with adequate training and food. The pack was a true family, one unit working in unison to care for each other. Their only problem was their size. In the midst of a boom of abundant prey in her first year of life, pack sizes around Northern Alaska grew. Her own family’s numbers did not grow however, due to the fact that the majority of their litters in the past had been wiped out by distemper. So, Kevser’s pack struggled to defend their territory. It was being constantly intruded upon, due also to the fact that a lake, being a great water source, sat in the middle of their home. It came down to one stormy, dusk evening however, at the borders of Kevser’s pack’s territory along the ocean shore line, that really tested the group. They were scouting the area to check for intruders when they happened upon a large pack within their midst, 13 members strong. A battle ensued, a bad judgment call on the alpha pair, for their own pack was clearly outnumbered. Her parents had been exasperated from the constant pressure of rival wolves though, and they were not willing to back down now. The wind whipped through the area, carrying the sounds of snarls and clacking teeth over the waves of the sea. Kevser, being a mere yearling, was scared out of her wits, and was still too small to take on a mature wolf in a fight. So, she ran. She was blinded by the curtain of wind and rain, causing her to panic. Desperately, she crashed out into the rampant tide, effectively avoiding the teeth of the rivals, but facing a new danger all together, for the shore was scattered with spiraling rocks, of which the waves crashing against. Kevser struggled to keep her head above water and quickly lost sight of her grappling family. It was then that a strong wave picked up her body and slammed it against a boulder, effectively knocking her out.
Within the next two hours, Kevser woke up, quickly realizing she was washed up on the shore. She was lucky that she hadn’t drowned. She woke up next to one of her uncles, and she poked him with her nose in relief. But his flesh did not yield to her touch as it should have, and her uncle did not shift. He was dead. She looked up, and realized the carnage. The whole pack was dead, it seemed, her parents, her brothers, her aunt. Their carcasses were strewn over the smoothed pebbles, small puddles of blood marking their deaths. She had lost her family in a moment, murdered by a single decision. The only body she could not find was that of one of her littermates, a brother. To this day, she assumes that his dead vessel might have been washed to sea in the storm. Kevser stayed in her slaughtered family’s territory, wandering it like a lost ghost. Packs would temporarily assume residence there, and Kevser would be careful to avoid conflict. However, a year passed, prey quantity dwindled, and so did the reaches of other packs. It left Kevser washed up in the abandoned territory, which hardened her and caused her to grieve. She had left her family to die.
Habits: When in ‘alpha’ mode, her tendencies are the natural shows of dominance. Also, she scratches at the ground if she particularly frustrated, much like an angry bull. In ‘family’ mode, tucked away within the folds of the pack, she can be seen grooming the members. If she is worried, she will bite at her paws until they bleed.
Strengths: Kevser has considerable strength and stamina, being able to lead the pack in most hunts. She is capable of finding the physical weaknesses of others, as she is very systematic and will find errors within another wolf. She is a good decision maker, and is very loving towards respectful members.
Weakness: What she has in strength and stamina, she lacks in speed and agility. Often times, she may allow the quicker hunters to run down their prey, because she is not able to keep up as long. Once the prey is worn down, she can usually match their speed and run all day. Also, to those who are grumpy to her, she can be grumpy right back. She may have mood swings, especially during breeding season, and she may be more liable to snap. Also, any mention of her family and she becomes that ghost again, distant and wandering.
The Beta
The Hunters
Atlas- Male- 4- Iberian Wolf- Hunter
Appearance:
Atlas is an Iberian wolf, and looks like it too. He has brown fur, though, some may say it is red, that is peppered with gray hairs. He has a slim head and two long, pointed ears. His snout isn't lacking in length either. Due to a run-in with a hedgehog, white scarring is prominent on his otherwise, black nose. Below his mouth and his lower jaw are creamy white, bleeding into his ashen grey chest. His legs are long, causing him to appear lanky. He is not very large, but definitely doesn't appear feminine. His thick coat and muscular build easily indicate his gender. The length of his body is normal for a wolf of his species. A 'V'-like shape overlays each of his shoulders in creamy brown. His underbelly is the same cream color his face and chest are. Atlas has dark brown eyes, almost black.
Personality:
The personality of this wolf varies from day-to-day; usually depending on what he ate. High-energy foods cause a high-energy Atlas. Despite his smaller size, Atlas is by no means weaker than an average male. He loves to hunt and kill just as much as the next carnivorous creature. His favorite activity is bettering himself--be it mental or physical--which leads to his biggest fault: forgetting his strengths and remembering only his weaknesses. He may not be as strong as other wolves physically, but his mind-based ability and quick speed make up for that tenfold. By combining his talents, he becomes a rapid attacker, calculating perfect movements in no time flat. He preferred to spend time with his mother when he was born, and avoided his father for the most part. He didn't have anything against him, but always felt like he wasn't good enough or strong enough. The lack of a father figure caused him to act somewhat female. He dreams to one day have a family of his own. That is, if he can find a mate.
History:
A harsh March blizzard brewed on the night that Atlas was birthed among four other siblings. Only three made it to the end of the harsh spring storm. Their mother and father did well in keeping them safe until they were old enough to care for themselves. At this point, they'd established a tiny pack, each of them having learned their places. They preferred to live on the move, stealing from various villages when they would come across them. Quite a few times they found themselves at the tip of a stone spear. It was dangerous, the way they went about life, and only a matter of time before something horrible happened. Finally, it did.
Shortly after Atlas's second year birthday, his pack and family prepared to steal from one of the small villages scattered about their homeland. Everything seemed normal that day for the most part. They would wait until night, sneak in, and snag whatever they deemed worthy. Usually the could find preserved meats or fish. At night, they could remain hidden in the inky blackness. As long as they didn't make a sound, they would be in and out before anyone ever knew. As the night drew near and the sun trailed off, they took their leave. The camp seemed empty for the most part, aside from a few of the humans enjoying dialogue around the fire. The pack sniffed the place out, eventually finding some food. Everything was going smooth, no one had noted their presence. However, good things never last. In a heartbeat, one of them had been spotted: Atlas's sister. They had two options, flee, or stay in an effort to help his sister. Naturally, they opted to help. Only one of the wolves made it out that night, Atlas. Of course, the humans didn't go unscathed either. They took down two of them before meeting their brutal end.
Not long after the tragedy, Atlas began traveling west. He'd survived a whole winter all by himself, going many days without anything to eat. His condition worsened with each passing week. Finally, winter changed into spring. He could sleep without worrying if he'd ever wake. His new hope was to find another pack. He feared another frigid winter alone.
Strengths: Atlas is very intelligent and logical. He is always thinking a few steps ahead of everyone, be it enemy or ally. A skilled fighter, the wolf plays both defense and offense very well. He may be small, but he is tough. It's going to take more than a few bites to throw him off his game.
Weakness:
His hyperactive mind caused Atlas to overthink a lot of things, everything, actually. Atlas has trouble sleeping often because of this. It's also one of the main reasons he hasn't yet found a mate. He usually scares them off during a mental breakdown. These breakdowns don't happen often, usually every few months. He tends to hoard bad thoughts, leaving him in paranoia. After a while, he runs out of thoughts that will bring him peace. This is when a breakdown happens. After an outburst, everything is fine until his mind returns to its muddled state.
Habits: Being too hard on himself.
Appearance:
Atlas is an Iberian wolf, and looks like it too. He has brown fur, though, some may say it is red, that is peppered with gray hairs. He has a slim head and two long, pointed ears. His snout isn't lacking in length either. Due to a run-in with a hedgehog, white scarring is prominent on his otherwise, black nose. Below his mouth and his lower jaw are creamy white, bleeding into his ashen grey chest. His legs are long, causing him to appear lanky. He is not very large, but definitely doesn't appear feminine. His thick coat and muscular build easily indicate his gender. The length of his body is normal for a wolf of his species. A 'V'-like shape overlays each of his shoulders in creamy brown. His underbelly is the same cream color his face and chest are. Atlas has dark brown eyes, almost black.
Personality:
The personality of this wolf varies from day-to-day; usually depending on what he ate. High-energy foods cause a high-energy Atlas. Despite his smaller size, Atlas is by no means weaker than an average male. He loves to hunt and kill just as much as the next carnivorous creature. His favorite activity is bettering himself--be it mental or physical--which leads to his biggest fault: forgetting his strengths and remembering only his weaknesses. He may not be as strong as other wolves physically, but his mind-based ability and quick speed make up for that tenfold. By combining his talents, he becomes a rapid attacker, calculating perfect movements in no time flat. He preferred to spend time with his mother when he was born, and avoided his father for the most part. He didn't have anything against him, but always felt like he wasn't good enough or strong enough. The lack of a father figure caused him to act somewhat female. He dreams to one day have a family of his own. That is, if he can find a mate.
History:
A harsh March blizzard brewed on the night that Atlas was birthed among four other siblings. Only three made it to the end of the harsh spring storm. Their mother and father did well in keeping them safe until they were old enough to care for themselves. At this point, they'd established a tiny pack, each of them having learned their places. They preferred to live on the move, stealing from various villages when they would come across them. Quite a few times they found themselves at the tip of a stone spear. It was dangerous, the way they went about life, and only a matter of time before something horrible happened. Finally, it did.
Shortly after Atlas's second year birthday, his pack and family prepared to steal from one of the small villages scattered about their homeland. Everything seemed normal that day for the most part. They would wait until night, sneak in, and snag whatever they deemed worthy. Usually the could find preserved meats or fish. At night, they could remain hidden in the inky blackness. As long as they didn't make a sound, they would be in and out before anyone ever knew. As the night drew near and the sun trailed off, they took their leave. The camp seemed empty for the most part, aside from a few of the humans enjoying dialogue around the fire. The pack sniffed the place out, eventually finding some food. Everything was going smooth, no one had noted their presence. However, good things never last. In a heartbeat, one of them had been spotted: Atlas's sister. They had two options, flee, or stay in an effort to help his sister. Naturally, they opted to help. Only one of the wolves made it out that night, Atlas. Of course, the humans didn't go unscathed either. They took down two of them before meeting their brutal end.
Not long after the tragedy, Atlas began traveling west. He'd survived a whole winter all by himself, going many days without anything to eat. His condition worsened with each passing week. Finally, winter changed into spring. He could sleep without worrying if he'd ever wake. His new hope was to find another pack. He feared another frigid winter alone.
Strengths: Atlas is very intelligent and logical. He is always thinking a few steps ahead of everyone, be it enemy or ally. A skilled fighter, the wolf plays both defense and offense very well. He may be small, but he is tough. It's going to take more than a few bites to throw him off his game.
Weakness:
His hyperactive mind caused Atlas to overthink a lot of things, everything, actually. Atlas has trouble sleeping often because of this. It's also one of the main reasons he hasn't yet found a mate. He usually scares them off during a mental breakdown. These breakdowns don't happen often, usually every few months. He tends to hoard bad thoughts, leaving him in paranoia. After a while, he runs out of thoughts that will bring him peace. This is when a breakdown happens. After an outburst, everything is fine until his mind returns to its muddled state.
Habits: Being too hard on himself.
-Cicuta - Female - 4 1/2 years - Arctic Wolf- Hunter
Appearance: Cicuta is a creature of dainty proportions, a combination of famine, hardship, and the shitty end of the gene pool resulting in her less-than-average size. Only 2’8” from paws to shoulder and 3’7” from nose to tail, she is indisputably one of the smallest wolves out there, a fact that seems to drive her more than it hinders her. With slender legs and a build more lean than powerful, it is glaringly obvious that this she-wolf is not a user of brute force, though the smooth play of muscle beneath her fur suggests that the female possesses many a strategy to make up for this slip in her making. As is standard of her species, her coat is of a thickness uncommon to wolves more suited to warm climates, from the scruff of her neck to the tip of her tail. The base of her pelt is various hues of whites and pale creams, her legs being of a darker palor than her chest and underbelly; a mask of white paints her muzzle and surrounds her eyes. Layered artfully atop this are different shades of tan and brown, flecked with gray and silver; the tip of her tail and edges of her ears are charcoal gray. Her nose is jet black, her muzzle angular and pointed; her claws are blunted and strong from constantly digging into ice and stone. Her eyes are of a strange brown hue, shades of ocher and toffee merging to create an odd shade of hazel edging on amber. Overall, Cicuta paints a lovely picture, but her mannerisms and attitude more than contrast her approachable appearance.
Personality: Cicuta lives up to her namesake to an almost comical degree. Named after a delicate white flower, one would think that with her appearance that that was all there was to it, but on the contrary, it goes somewhat deeper than that. The cicuta flower possesses a powerful toxin, a poison that when taken in too large a dose can result in death; like the flower itself, Cicuta has learned to build defenses around herself both emotionally and mentally, possessing a certain poison all her own. The harsh environment that she calls home prompted her to become a rather uptight, bitter female, one whom is quick to push others away and even quicker to avoid them altogether; it is a slow process of earning her trust, and to those who don’t care to look deeper, it is simply not worth it. The small bundle of ferocity has a tongue sharper than any fang or claw, and insults fueled by wit flow from her mouth much easier than any kind murmurings do. The rare few that possess a patience vast enough to get to know the femme find her to be sarcastic and sardonic in her humor, though loyal to those she deems worthy and honest to the point of cruelty. No, Cicuta is not an easy one to be around, but her peculiar skill sets often make the sometimes taxing experience worth it.
History: Cicuta was born at the edges of a vast Alaskan tundra, in a den of ice and snow. With no pack to support her small family of three - consisting of herself, her mother, and her sire - life had been twice as difficult from the day she was born, which resulted in a peculiar resentment on her parent’s part before she was even old enough to understand the difference between true affection and reserved tolerance. With prey scarce and true emotional interaction between herself and her parents even scarcer, Cicuta grew up malnourished and somewhat emotionally stilted, a hard shell forming around her heart in which she locked her weaknesses away. Though her family did not teach her the ways of affection, they did teach her how to survive, pointing out her shortcomings to an almost exaggerated extent; although without such ‘pointers’ she most certainly would not be the wolf she is today. This upbringing led to her complete intolerance of anything but her personal best, always striving to better herself and those around her in any way she can. After living with her parents throughout her youth, she left them with little prompting at the age of two, traveling through lands rugged and wild, barren with a blatant lack of any civilization, wolf or otherwise. It was these harsh few months of traveling that truly shaped her persona, the youngster becoming as harsh and biting as the lands she ventured across. Eventually she crossed the territory of a pack, a band of wolves world weary and at odds with an equally formidable enemy - it was here that she found a place where she could belong, learning of affection and the unique bonds between pack wolves. As cruel and unforgiving as she may seem, her loyalty to them became absolute, and she would not abandon them for the world.
Habits: To be determined IC - this is a new character after all, and I haven’t quite worked out all the quirks of her persona ^^
Strengths: Possessing a wit and cunning about her as well as her physical appearance to aid the disillusions of others, this she-wolf is a master manipulator. Coupled with speed and a fierce, don't'-screw-with-me’ persona, the femme is a valuable strategizer and decision maker, so much so that her opinion carries a starkly significant weight to those around her.
Weakness: Strong feelings do not come easily to the femme, thusly when they do show up they often affect her down to the very marrow of her bones. If her hardened front were to be shattered rather than deftly maneuvered past, it could break her in a purely mental way. Furthermore, there is the obvious disadvantage of her size when it comes to fights, though she does manage to somewhat make up for this with speed and intelligence.
Appearance: Cicuta is a creature of dainty proportions, a combination of famine, hardship, and the shitty end of the gene pool resulting in her less-than-average size. Only 2’8” from paws to shoulder and 3’7” from nose to tail, she is indisputably one of the smallest wolves out there, a fact that seems to drive her more than it hinders her. With slender legs and a build more lean than powerful, it is glaringly obvious that this she-wolf is not a user of brute force, though the smooth play of muscle beneath her fur suggests that the female possesses many a strategy to make up for this slip in her making. As is standard of her species, her coat is of a thickness uncommon to wolves more suited to warm climates, from the scruff of her neck to the tip of her tail. The base of her pelt is various hues of whites and pale creams, her legs being of a darker palor than her chest and underbelly; a mask of white paints her muzzle and surrounds her eyes. Layered artfully atop this are different shades of tan and brown, flecked with gray and silver; the tip of her tail and edges of her ears are charcoal gray. Her nose is jet black, her muzzle angular and pointed; her claws are blunted and strong from constantly digging into ice and stone. Her eyes are of a strange brown hue, shades of ocher and toffee merging to create an odd shade of hazel edging on amber. Overall, Cicuta paints a lovely picture, but her mannerisms and attitude more than contrast her approachable appearance.
Personality: Cicuta lives up to her namesake to an almost comical degree. Named after a delicate white flower, one would think that with her appearance that that was all there was to it, but on the contrary, it goes somewhat deeper than that. The cicuta flower possesses a powerful toxin, a poison that when taken in too large a dose can result in death; like the flower itself, Cicuta has learned to build defenses around herself both emotionally and mentally, possessing a certain poison all her own. The harsh environment that she calls home prompted her to become a rather uptight, bitter female, one whom is quick to push others away and even quicker to avoid them altogether; it is a slow process of earning her trust, and to those who don’t care to look deeper, it is simply not worth it. The small bundle of ferocity has a tongue sharper than any fang or claw, and insults fueled by wit flow from her mouth much easier than any kind murmurings do. The rare few that possess a patience vast enough to get to know the femme find her to be sarcastic and sardonic in her humor, though loyal to those she deems worthy and honest to the point of cruelty. No, Cicuta is not an easy one to be around, but her peculiar skill sets often make the sometimes taxing experience worth it.
History: Cicuta was born at the edges of a vast Alaskan tundra, in a den of ice and snow. With no pack to support her small family of three - consisting of herself, her mother, and her sire - life had been twice as difficult from the day she was born, which resulted in a peculiar resentment on her parent’s part before she was even old enough to understand the difference between true affection and reserved tolerance. With prey scarce and true emotional interaction between herself and her parents even scarcer, Cicuta grew up malnourished and somewhat emotionally stilted, a hard shell forming around her heart in which she locked her weaknesses away. Though her family did not teach her the ways of affection, they did teach her how to survive, pointing out her shortcomings to an almost exaggerated extent; although without such ‘pointers’ she most certainly would not be the wolf she is today. This upbringing led to her complete intolerance of anything but her personal best, always striving to better herself and those around her in any way she can. After living with her parents throughout her youth, she left them with little prompting at the age of two, traveling through lands rugged and wild, barren with a blatant lack of any civilization, wolf or otherwise. It was these harsh few months of traveling that truly shaped her persona, the youngster becoming as harsh and biting as the lands she ventured across. Eventually she crossed the territory of a pack, a band of wolves world weary and at odds with an equally formidable enemy - it was here that she found a place where she could belong, learning of affection and the unique bonds between pack wolves. As cruel and unforgiving as she may seem, her loyalty to them became absolute, and she would not abandon them for the world.
Habits: To be determined IC - this is a new character after all, and I haven’t quite worked out all the quirks of her persona ^^
Strengths: Possessing a wit and cunning about her as well as her physical appearance to aid the disillusions of others, this she-wolf is a master manipulator. Coupled with speed and a fierce, don't'-screw-with-me’ persona, the femme is a valuable strategizer and decision maker, so much so that her opinion carries a starkly significant weight to those around her.
Weakness: Strong feelings do not come easily to the femme, thusly when they do show up they often affect her down to the very marrow of her bones. If her hardened front were to be shattered rather than deftly maneuvered past, it could break her in a purely mental way. Furthermore, there is the obvious disadvantage of her size when it comes to fights, though she does manage to somewhat make up for this with speed and intelligence.
Gethyn- Male- 5 years- Great Plains Wolf- Hunter
Appearance: Gethyn is decently sized for his age and breeding, measuring in at about 6’2 snout to tail, and 2’9 paw to shoulder, this means the hefty brute weighs in at around 130 pounds. His pelt is a vivid blend of light through dark; the base of almost his entire body is a gentle tawny tan. Some of these sections even pop out in highlights down musculature of shoulder, spine, underbelly and rear of hind-limbs; along with a small section over his eyebrows and down his cheek. A large portion though, of his pelt, appears to be a dark oak brown with some scattered sections of ebony upon his skull, ears, neck, lower legs, tail tip and a few parts across his ribs to add some flare. Gethyn has soft, inviting hues of tawny tint almost identical to that scattered across his pelt making them pop within the blend of oak-onyx face-mask.
Personality: Gethyn is fairly level-headed. He knows when to step up and he knows when to step down. Having followed and learned from his sire and grand-sire throughout most his pup-hood; he knows what mixture of dominance and bonding is required to lead a tightly-knit pack. He knows how to work with those around him in a leading manner, meaning he tends to put himself higher than some others, while keeping respectful of anyone higher ranked than himself.
Gethyn also knows how to lose himself and become absorbed in certain situations. This means he sometimes over-reacts; finding himself become more over-bearing to those he feels aren't stepping up or those he feels are challenging him in some manner.
It's quite clear when it comes to those around him, those closest to him; he finds sanctuary. A calmness sweeps over him and allows him to bond with those who form the pack that he relies on for survival. The brute also seems to show a weaker side when it comes to pups. His playful nature and soft personality emerge, and only when others threaten those same pups or those close to him, does he find aggression levels rising.
History: One of four pups born in a harsh winter; Gethyn was the production of two alphas and their five followers. These being his father's parents, his two siblings and one of their mothers siblings. Being raised in turn by all members of their small developing pack, Gethyn learned the meaning of what bonding truly meant and how it affected a packs teamwork. All the while, Gethyn, also learned how proper rules and boundaries guide build closer relations to all members.
He followed his father and his grand-sire almost everywhere once he was of age to tag along. He always had a seat right beside the males when it came to meals, and this meant he always got to eat before the other litter-mates and pack-mates. Though it wasn't too much later at a few months of age that he learned what it was to lose someone close. Both of his sisters, and his grand-sire passed during an encounter with a bear whilst Gethyn and his brother managed to squirm their way behind their only defense; their family who fought until retreating was necessary. This loss hardened Gethyn up as he lost three great companions and realized everything comes into your life, just as easy as it goes. Nothing is just palmed to you in return for nothing.
Over the course of two and three years of age, Gethyn found himself getting into multiple scraps with his brother. Numerous times both drew blood from each other, and numerous times their sire stood in to break them apart with wavering patience. Even with these outbreaks between them both, they did relax and provide short grooming sessions with each other and their remaining pack-mates. Gethyn had always been favored by his father, being taught all there was to hopefully guiding a successful group; whilst his brother was favored by their mother, who preferred to spend most her time bonding. Thus, the growing pressure between the duo for who would take over as their parents entered their prime, would eventually hit its peak. After one specific fight Gethyn's parents, and the rest of the small pack, beat into the dueling brothers. They planned on leaving more punctures than either had ever received and run both off in opposing directions with little warning or invitation to return.
This was a turning point for Gethyn; he grew within himself, learning once more that power didn't always get you what you wanted or needed. But he knew it was necessary to keep things organized and to allow proper bonding to take place through a proper pack hierarchy. As Gethyn wandered for a rough while on his own, he had made tough decisions for survival; whether to go after certain prey or to leave it and wait for another. He attempted to scavenge from humans and on two occasions almost didn't get out, but by unknown reasons; somehow managed his escape.
Gethyn had spent his entire time alone working to set his priorities straight. He was going to find a place to call home; and in turn wolves to call family and if possible a mate to succeed his bloodline and build a stronger future for himself and those around him. Though his plan currently was to take up any rank and work his way to a higher rank.
Habits: [WIP.]
Strengths: Gethyn is definitely a build of mostly muscle, while he contains some fit appearance he is also visibly the one who uses sheer force to take down larger prey, almost like an anchor. When it comes to hunting he is best suited to taking an even pace, falling behind and merely guiding prey whilst homing in on the weakest, illest or most desired prey selected by the others. Once that's done and the prey is worn from the more agile wolves taking chase he'd use what speed and stamina he had to catch up and take hold of the prey around the neck, shoulders or even hind-quarters in a fashion that would help halt it and allow the others to join in.
Weakness: Gethyn is not very agile or speedy when it comes to most things. He's made mostly of brute strength and that doesn't work in others favors. When he feels they're in the wrong and he's in the right; he's quick turn it upon them in either a vocal or occasionally physical manner. He also tends to be distant with other males; this means he can be a bit rougher towards them. But at the same time he's willing to build his bonds, willing to expand his trust for them to allow better teamwork within their pack.
Appearance: Gethyn is decently sized for his age and breeding, measuring in at about 6’2 snout to tail, and 2’9 paw to shoulder, this means the hefty brute weighs in at around 130 pounds. His pelt is a vivid blend of light through dark; the base of almost his entire body is a gentle tawny tan. Some of these sections even pop out in highlights down musculature of shoulder, spine, underbelly and rear of hind-limbs; along with a small section over his eyebrows and down his cheek. A large portion though, of his pelt, appears to be a dark oak brown with some scattered sections of ebony upon his skull, ears, neck, lower legs, tail tip and a few parts across his ribs to add some flare. Gethyn has soft, inviting hues of tawny tint almost identical to that scattered across his pelt making them pop within the blend of oak-onyx face-mask.
Personality: Gethyn is fairly level-headed. He knows when to step up and he knows when to step down. Having followed and learned from his sire and grand-sire throughout most his pup-hood; he knows what mixture of dominance and bonding is required to lead a tightly-knit pack. He knows how to work with those around him in a leading manner, meaning he tends to put himself higher than some others, while keeping respectful of anyone higher ranked than himself.
Gethyn also knows how to lose himself and become absorbed in certain situations. This means he sometimes over-reacts; finding himself become more over-bearing to those he feels aren't stepping up or those he feels are challenging him in some manner.
It's quite clear when it comes to those around him, those closest to him; he finds sanctuary. A calmness sweeps over him and allows him to bond with those who form the pack that he relies on for survival. The brute also seems to show a weaker side when it comes to pups. His playful nature and soft personality emerge, and only when others threaten those same pups or those close to him, does he find aggression levels rising.
History: One of four pups born in a harsh winter; Gethyn was the production of two alphas and their five followers. These being his father's parents, his two siblings and one of their mothers siblings. Being raised in turn by all members of their small developing pack, Gethyn learned the meaning of what bonding truly meant and how it affected a packs teamwork. All the while, Gethyn, also learned how proper rules and boundaries guide build closer relations to all members.
He followed his father and his grand-sire almost everywhere once he was of age to tag along. He always had a seat right beside the males when it came to meals, and this meant he always got to eat before the other litter-mates and pack-mates. Though it wasn't too much later at a few months of age that he learned what it was to lose someone close. Both of his sisters, and his grand-sire passed during an encounter with a bear whilst Gethyn and his brother managed to squirm their way behind their only defense; their family who fought until retreating was necessary. This loss hardened Gethyn up as he lost three great companions and realized everything comes into your life, just as easy as it goes. Nothing is just palmed to you in return for nothing.
Over the course of two and three years of age, Gethyn found himself getting into multiple scraps with his brother. Numerous times both drew blood from each other, and numerous times their sire stood in to break them apart with wavering patience. Even with these outbreaks between them both, they did relax and provide short grooming sessions with each other and their remaining pack-mates. Gethyn had always been favored by his father, being taught all there was to hopefully guiding a successful group; whilst his brother was favored by their mother, who preferred to spend most her time bonding. Thus, the growing pressure between the duo for who would take over as their parents entered their prime, would eventually hit its peak. After one specific fight Gethyn's parents, and the rest of the small pack, beat into the dueling brothers. They planned on leaving more punctures than either had ever received and run both off in opposing directions with little warning or invitation to return.
This was a turning point for Gethyn; he grew within himself, learning once more that power didn't always get you what you wanted or needed. But he knew it was necessary to keep things organized and to allow proper bonding to take place through a proper pack hierarchy. As Gethyn wandered for a rough while on his own, he had made tough decisions for survival; whether to go after certain prey or to leave it and wait for another. He attempted to scavenge from humans and on two occasions almost didn't get out, but by unknown reasons; somehow managed his escape.
Gethyn had spent his entire time alone working to set his priorities straight. He was going to find a place to call home; and in turn wolves to call family and if possible a mate to succeed his bloodline and build a stronger future for himself and those around him. Though his plan currently was to take up any rank and work his way to a higher rank.
Habits: [WIP.]
Strengths: Gethyn is definitely a build of mostly muscle, while he contains some fit appearance he is also visibly the one who uses sheer force to take down larger prey, almost like an anchor. When it comes to hunting he is best suited to taking an even pace, falling behind and merely guiding prey whilst homing in on the weakest, illest or most desired prey selected by the others. Once that's done and the prey is worn from the more agile wolves taking chase he'd use what speed and stamina he had to catch up and take hold of the prey around the neck, shoulders or even hind-quarters in a fashion that would help halt it and allow the others to join in.
Weakness: Gethyn is not very agile or speedy when it comes to most things. He's made mostly of brute strength and that doesn't work in others favors. When he feels they're in the wrong and he's in the right; he's quick turn it upon them in either a vocal or occasionally physical manner. He also tends to be distant with other males; this means he can be a bit rougher towards them. But at the same time he's willing to build his bonds, willing to expand his trust for them to allow better teamwork within their pack.
The Omegas
There are not yet any Omegas in the pack
Half-Years
There are not yet any Half-Years in the pack
Pups
There are not yet any Pups in the pack