Post by Tarvos on Oct 9, 2015 13:16:21 GMT -5
YOUR CHARACTER
Full Name: Tarvos
Age: 5
Gender: male
Species:rocky mountain wolf.
Length: 6 feet.
Height: 33 inches.
Weight: 87 pounds.
Pack Desired: thinking about joining the Blood Moon, loner for the time being.
Physical Appearance: 36.media.tumblr.com/44a4a0d255307721103d6755b06351b0/tumblr_n5jhuoP1yN1txssuho1_1280.jpg
This wolf has a curious pelt, it is darker --almost black-- on his back and atop his head but towards his flanks, paws and underbelly it turns a blue-gray color. Several scars are scattered around his sinewy body hidden under his fur; the most prominent of these scars is a short straight mark beneath his right eye. His eyes are small and round, cold, and of the same grim color of the sky before a storm.
Personality:
Tarvos has been a lone wolf for quite some time and as such his social skills aren't top notch; in fact he is quite the anti social, gruff and cryptic character. Daring and outgoing but with little care of others, little regard for thoughts and feelings other than his own. He has throughfully embraced the lone wolf mentality of living only for oneself.
Tarvos enjoys a good fight and is known to attack and bully other loners off their hard-earned meat so he doesn't have to hunt his own, not that he is incapable of catching his own food but stealing from weaker or less vicious wolves he finds easier.
History: Tarvos was the middle pup in a litter of three. His father was an enormous and battle-scarred brute named Ornlu who died defending his mate from an enraged grizzly bear. The bear had a badly infected wound in the base of its neck and the pain had sent it into a berserking rage.
Tarvos and his siblings were little younger than two years at the time of the tragedy but the wolf rallied his brothers in a dangerous crusade to avenge their parent's death. The yearlings clearly stood no chance against their insane enemy but they would constantly harass the bear and as the infection sapped its strength, the canines prevailed.
Shortly after their victory the siblings split to write their own stories, their howls growing more and more distant in the snowy mountain range until they were never heard again.
YOU
Alias: Tarvos
Contact: --
About You: --
Role PlaySample: The Sea Queen was miles above the average sea rat, she always thread carefully not to fall in any of his clever traps and her will was like an impregnable shield of steel that he couldn't hope to put a dent in; but that did not stop his supernatural presence from circling around her like a vicious tiger on the prowl scans a village's palisade searching for the slightest sign of weakness.
Ever vigilant like only undead can be, the second she let her guard down he swiped away a thought. His prize was no more than the static image of a great galleon and a word, Death. How delightfully ominous! the gleeful comment inserted itself in her elfen mind, chaffing her for the oddity of letting her guard down.
Putting aside his telepathic banter for the time being, the lich did as requested, his ancient skeletal body rose from behind a great ebony desk, soundlessly with the strength of no ligaments or muscles but of invisible strings of magical energies that emulated life-like movements not unlike a macabre but masterful marionette. "Yes m'lady?" Said he, his voice a windy voice distorted and ethereal like the echo of something that once was. The pale blue light in his otherwise empty eye sockets seemed to glow with genuine curiosity of the matter she had come to discuss and about which he had so far only gathered these two cryptic clues.