- Thread starter
- #21
hi hello i tried to make a member page but theres too many words for our charries to fit
where do we put the children
where do we put the children
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«{~:-HOUSE OF WOLVES-:~}» A Dog Role Play
- Thread starter Flufferes
- Start date
Here
<3
Can I make him a sister?Name: Cider
Age: 15 moons
Rank: hunter novitiate
Gender: male
Personality: sweet and gentle. Someone that doesnt know him well would describe him as shy. He is very passive and has a fascination with water- loves the rain, listening to the sea, and visiting the falls. He definitely has a chatty side but often fails to show it to those in authority, as he has a healthy fear of those above him in power. Don't be fooled- he can be sneaky.
Breed/species: dutch shepherd mix
Description: Eyes are a dark brown. Fur is short and has a typical dutch shepherd brindle. Is sort of a tall fellow, legs are a bit on the long side but overall not completely lanky when you see him as a whole.
History: Nothing out of the ordinary. When he was first becoming a novitiate, he wanted to apply to become a healer but he was afraid he would get judged because it's not a role most males usually are drawn to or pursue. He made himself choose between guardian and hunter. After nights of overthinking and analyzing what the future would be like, he chose hunter training over guardian training. The thought of fighting other dogs scared him. He's definitely not living his ideal life, nor is he on the road to it, but he's enjoying himself while he can before he graduates. As long as he has friends to spend the rest of his life with, he believes he will be content. The idea of growing up has never settled well with him. His soft nature clashes with his pack's tendency to revolve around the fierce order of wolves, and he may be on the road to becoming an omega.
Pack: Lupus
Mate/Crush: possibly
Offspring: in the future maybe
Parents: distant
Siblings: if anyone wants to make him a sister, they can.
Song associated: unfortunately i am unable to link cavetown's entire discography so have this song that captures his vibes pretty well
Other: unfortunately peel i didnt end up naming him tavros✌
Username: Flufferes
- Oct 17, 2016
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Name: Chester
Age: 2 years (24 moons)
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Male
Personality: Extremely loyal, but also extremely slow to trust. Fun-loving and friendly, can be a bit too much sometimes. However, he’ll always be there for his friends if they need him, but when his friends try to return the favor, he refuses to discuss his own sadness. Not easily frightened, and is sometimes disciplined by his superiors for being brash.
Breed/species: A mutt with mostly husky and Pitbull in him.
View attachment 2202047
(not my picture)
He looks basically like the picture but with amber eyes and slightly longer fur around his neck and tail. He has a pretty slim, athletic frame, and is a fair fighter, but isn’t big or bulky enough to be better than that. If he had to enforce his rank, he would probably be about in the middle or lower.
History: Chester and his brother, Hawk, grew up loved by two young children. His litter was born by accident but was not necessarily a surprise- just another mistake by an irresponsible human. When they got bigger and started to eat more, one of the adult humans grabbed them and drove them away, where they were promptly dumped, like so many others. They had ended up at a decrepit parking lot that housed a scattering of other feral dogs. For the first time, Chester was torn from the ones he loved; his parents and the children who had cared for him. It was horrible, especially as he was so young, but he tried to be optimistic for his brother. They were occasionally fed by humans, but even so, the competition was fierce. The fighting and bullying was hard for the young dogs, but they managed. Chester vowed to himself that he would never join a pack that was anything like this one.
One day, a teenage human and her mother came across Chester while he was alone. He still trusted humans, despite his earlier experience with them, and approached them willingly. He was surprised when the younger human opened her door and urged him in. In a single moment of impulsiveness, he leapt into the car. Only as the door shut did he realize his mistake. He had left Hawk. He would never see his brother again.
What he had done tormented him, but Chester still tried to be friendly with his new owners. He grew inseparable from the girl, but she was often busy and didn’t seem have as much time for him as he would’ve liked.
Then, one day, he was taken away from his loved ones, for the third time in his short life. Put in a car, driven for what seemed like years, but was really only days. Finally, they arrived in the middle of nowhere. He was handed over to a human that seemed nice enough, but he wasn’t Chester’s human. So Chester ran. He leapt over a fence after a few unsupervised moments in the backyard and ran without a backwards glance. But he only got deeper into the wilderness.
A day came, at the beginning of winter, as prey grew scarcer and he just couldn’t seem to get warm at night, when Chester encountered other dogs. He was wary, and distrustful, for anyone he had ever let himself grow to love had been taken from him. But these dogs were friendly, and he soon relaxed in their company. He tried to stop thinking about his past. And it worked. Or, at least he thought it did. But you can’t push away your sadness forever.
Pack: Canis
Mate/Crush: None at the moment
Offspring: Nope
Parents: Somewhere
Siblings: Hawk (dead or just hanging out in a parking lot somewhere)
Song associated: I’m not very good at connecting songs to characters, so I’m just gonna leave these blank.
Other: I didn’t expect his history to be this long... and I’m kinda unsure if I should change his age, but whatever.
Username: RoostersAreAwesome
[[[sad cat noises]]] dude I love him
fixedi failed i never fixed the brisket fur
accEpted except theres one thing
the beloved taki of the hour is just one moon below minimum graduating age
so technically she would be a guardian novitiate rn
aw i understand
all good to go bro, this lad is ZESTY
i have girl characters too i promise-
Name: Ontario
Age: 17 moons
Rank: novitiate (guardian)
Gender: male
Personality: pessimistic, critical, rebellious, irritable. The only thing keeping him held on to the wolves is his guilt in not believing in them.
Breed/species: karelian bear dog
Description: dark brown eyes, black and white pelt. kind of a short boi- 20 inches tall. compact like a 2010 kia soul
History: His mother named him Ontario because it's a very special place to her. She was from Ontario before her owners moved to British Columbia. She got lost in the woods, stumbled upon Canis pack, and decided it was a nice place to stay. She found a mate, a purpose, and happiness. Her happiness did not last long, though. When Ontario was 5 moons, his mother was killed by coyotes because "wolf spirits deemed her detestable, an unholy canine capable of mass destruction". His father left the pack the morning after the execution, and didn't take Ontario with him, presumably because he wasn't in the state of mind to be taking care of a pup all by himself. Ontario was left solely to the care of the hunter mentors. By 10 moons, his mentor didn't think he was shaping up to be a good hunter so he was transferred to the guardian mentors to train to become a guardian. In both areas he lacked tenacity and many resent him for it. He is bitter having to spend the rest of his youth without his parents, and doesn't believe in the religion. He knows he cannot voice his opinions freely, having been harshly scolded for it in the past. The paragon has a grudge against him, and many authority in the pack have picked up on it. Many dogs and coyotes dont make his life easy.
Pack: Canis
Mate/Crush: well well, we are just gonna have to see
Offspring: no
Parents: mother Delilah, and father Hemlock
Siblings: hes an only child
Song associated:Other:
Username: @Flufferes
Name: Cider
Age: 15 moons
Rank: hunter novitiate
Gender: male
Personality: sweet and gentle. Someone that doesnt know him well would describe him as shy. He is very passive and has a fascination with water- loves the rain, listening to the sea, and visiting the falls. He definitely has a chatty side but often fails to show it to those in authority, as he has a healthy fear of those above him in power. Don't be fooled- he can be sneaky.
Breed/species: dutch shepherd mix
Description: Eyes are a dark brown. Fur is short and has a typical dutch shepherd brindle. Is sort of a tall fellow, legs are a bit on the long side but overall not completely lanky when you see him as a whole.
History: Nothing out of the ordinary. When he was first becoming a novitiate, he wanted to apply to become a healer but he was afraid he would get judged because it's not a role most males usually are drawn to or pursue. He made himself choose between guardian and hunter. After nights of overthinking and analyzing what the future would be like, he chose hunter training over guardian training. The thought of fighting other dogs scared him. He's definitely not living his ideal life, nor is he on the road to it, but he's enjoying himself while he can before he graduates. As long as he has friends to spend the rest of his life with, he believes he will be content. The idea of growing up has never settled well with him. His soft nature clashes with his pack's tendency to revolve around the fierce order of wolves, and he may be on the road to becoming an omega.
Pack: Lupus
Mate/Crush: possibly
Offspring: in the future maybe
Parents: distant
Siblings: if anyone wants to make him a sister, they can.
Song associated: unfortunately i am unable to link cavetown's entire discography so have this song that captures his vibes pretty well
Other: unfortunately peel i didnt end up naming him tavros
Username: Flufferes
Name: Idaho
Age: 6 years
Rank: Guardian General
Gender: male
Personality: hostile and self-centered. He's power hungry and itching for conflict, taking any chance he can get to fight. Merciless and strict. The only reason he gets to stick around it seems is because he keeps the guardians in line better than anyone else. Often played off as a dog who just channels the wolf spirit more excessively and eccentrically than anyone else. Has a reputation among the Canis as being ruthless and extreme, and they've vocalized their distaste time and time again- he's heard it all before. Among his own however- lets just say he knows who his allies are. Idaho uses his high place in the rigid hierarchy of Lupus to his advantage. He is well aware of everyone in the pack who silently disapproves of him- and he takes his sweet time coaxing it out of them. Picking on the weak when he can, pushing them to the edge, he lives to hear them say he's insane. He thrives on the earned disrespect. Because when their silence breaks, it's his own personal gateway to break them physically. He isn't in it for the religion. He's in it for the blood.
Breed/species: German Shorthaired Pointer
Description: bright amber eyes, short fur, powerful build. Base fur color is white- he has a healthy amount of fingerprint sized brown speckles across his pelt, but they do not overpower the white. A large brown patch across his shoulders that is separated from his solid brown head. Im really wishing right now that the picture he's based off of was a free stock image, curse you copyright.
History: Escaped hunting dog. Arrived to Lupus pack at 2 years old and was an instant favorite for his alert senses and wolf-like attitude. He rose through the ranks quickly and was deemed official General at 4 years old. But he isn't done with his pursuit of power.
Pack: Lupus
Mate/Crush: women want him. fish fear him
Offspring: oh i can't imagine what a father he would be
Parents: some prestigious purebreds out in the world
Siblings: some prestigious purebreds out in the world
Song associated:Other:
Username: @Flufferes
Name: Petrel
Age: 5 years
Rank: Right below the paragon in the committee
Gender: male
Personality: His investment and dedication is almost disturbing. Takes pride in being able to fool tens of wild dogs. He practically has the world in his paws- and the way it landed in his grasp doesn't bother him one bit. Probably the most Influential coyote right below the paragon. Speaking of the paragon, he makes it very apparent how buddy-buddy he is with the guy. He supports the paragon in all his endeavors, getting a kick out of how well he plays his part. Petrel has the most say over who comes to see the paragon, and he doesn't make it easy. You better have a darn good reason to approach the paragon, because Petrel isn't gonna cut you any slack. Admittedly, somewhere deep down he's got a thick ball of undying insecurity but his charm covers it up pretty well. You wouldn't even know if you saw him.
Breed/species: coyote
Description: standard Pacific Northwest coyote. No notable scars that havent healed or anything. Eyes? A neutral golden-yellow. Pelt is a little darker in color, but still has that trademark arrangement of brown-white-black. Pelt isn't exactly overly short or overly long- it's somewhere in-between not really leaning toward either extreme. yes i know the eyes in this picture arent yellow shut up
History: Born into the committee. 4th generation degenerate, baby.
Pack: The Committee
Mate/Crush: hmmmm
Offspring: n/a
Parents: Some dead influential deceptive vermin.
Siblings: off on their own
Song associated:Other:
Username: @Flufferes
These bois are absolutely metal holy crap
except Soft Boy but he's like the softest of the soft andhsjjskdksk just yes uwu
- Oct 17, 2016
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yes yes yes yes
whatever I say here is going to be immortalized
so maybe I ought to say nothing
edit: I was kidding. Of course I was.
Good WOLVES, let alone the extraordinary ones I already know, but these NEW dogs????!!?!?! Even after three years of this, y'all never cease to amaze me with what you come up with.
so maybe I ought to say nothing
edit: I was kidding. Of course I was.
Good WOLVES, let alone the extraordinary ones I already know, but these NEW dogs????!!?!?! Even after three years of this, y'all never cease to amaze me with what you come up with.
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Name: Typhoon
Age: Ageless
Rank: Beta
Gender: Male
Personality: He’s apathy incarnate, plain and simple. Hostility, amity, romance, or any other sort of specific inclination toward another- he doesn’t feel them, but he’ll sure as h*ck use them. He regards everyone with the exact same vaguely disdainful pretense- like they’re bothering him just by existing, but it’s too much of an unnecessary effort to actually elaborate on that, so he does what he does. Cuts right to chase when dishing out commands ororders advice; to get more than three words in a single response is nothing short of a miracle. If approached by an aggressor, he just shuts them down by getting up and flexing a good bit. And if that doesn’t work, well, he hates to resort to violence (Editor’s Note: He really doesn’t.), but if that’s the way they want it, that’s the way they’ll have it.
Actually, there IS a way to gauge his seemingly imperceptible mood: the more agitated he is, the more he flexes. So, if he’s a rippling hunk of muscle -I mean, who am I kidding, he’s pretty much always that- you’ve got him ticked, alright, and implosion is imminent. And you must’ve achieved this by simultaneously pressing all of his buttons, which include, but not to the entire extent of:
…and he’s bound to be pwetty scawee at that point OwO
If it suits him, he’ll do it, regardless of just how illegal or immoral it is. By the law of the ancestors, he’s strong and here to not only survive, but thrive, and he just doesn’t care who he flattens on the road to achieve it.
Pretty good beta because he a) has zero bias toward anyone or anything, b) doesn’t take crap, c) looks the part of entitlement by blood, and, most importantly, d) is hot.
Breed: His appearance is vaguely that of a discolored, oversized Doberman- and let’s not even get started on his musculature.
Description: Tall, dark, and buff.
42" tall.
Very dark indeed.
But.
Literally.
The most ripped dog you’ve never seen.
The overlay of his coat is an undeniably wolfish gray interspersed with varying blacks and blues. The rest of it is an uninterrupted white. Massive paws with webbing between each toe. Immaculately long claws- has to sharpen them on something that he won’t share with anyone else. Cardinal feature has to be his soulless black eyes.
History: Rose from the sea one day. There are whispers that he actually was spontaneously created underwater by wolf spirits who drowned or something for the sole purpose to vibe check the pack- a rumor that he’s all too happy to let proliferate and continuously feed him its byproducts: reverence, admiration, and avoidance. When some dense dog dares to inquire into his past, he’ll make clear in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t care to answer.
After initially, well, appearing, he climbed the ranks of Lupus, starting out slowly, but then advanced in noticeable leaps and bounds until he came to loftily rest at Beta.
Pack: Lupus
Crush: I pity all the unfortunate souls that fall for him.
Offspring: No.
Parents:Mermaids
Siblings: Drowned
Song: Destiny (Neffex)
Other: No, those muscles aren’t effortless. He does indeed work for them. By swimming. And swim he does. Constantly. By an insanely precise schedule.
And does he want to ever be even momentarily kept from swimming? No.
Username: HeavensHens88
Age: Ageless
Rank: Beta
Gender: Male
Personality: He’s apathy incarnate, plain and simple. Hostility, amity, romance, or any other sort of specific inclination toward another- he doesn’t feel them, but he’ll sure as h*ck use them. He regards everyone with the exact same vaguely disdainful pretense- like they’re bothering him just by existing, but it’s too much of an unnecessary effort to actually elaborate on that, so he does what he does. Cuts right to chase when dishing out commands or
Actually, there IS a way to gauge his seemingly imperceptible mood: the more agitated he is, the more he flexes. So, if he’s a rippling hunk of muscle -I mean, who am I kidding, he’s pretty much always that- you’ve got him ticked, alright, and implosion is imminent. And you must’ve achieved this by simultaneously pressing all of his buttons, which include, but not to the entire extent of:
Interfering with his daily swim in any way, shape, or form
…and he’s bound to be pwetty scawee at that point OwO
If it suits him, he’ll do it, regardless of just how illegal or immoral it is. By the law of the ancestors, he’s strong and here to not only survive, but thrive, and he just doesn’t care who he flattens on the road to achieve it.
Pretty good beta because he a) has zero bias toward anyone or anything, b) doesn’t take crap, c) looks the part of entitlement by blood, and, most importantly, d) is hot.
Breed: His appearance is vaguely that of a discolored, oversized Doberman- and let’s not even get started on his musculature.
Description: Tall, dark, and buff.
42" tall.
Very dark indeed.
But.
Literally.
The most ripped dog you’ve never seen.
The overlay of his coat is an undeniably wolfish gray interspersed with varying blacks and blues. The rest of it is an uninterrupted white. Massive paws with webbing between each toe. Immaculately long claws- has to sharpen them on something that he won’t share with anyone else. Cardinal feature has to be his soulless black eyes.
History: Rose from the sea one day. There are whispers that he actually was spontaneously created underwater by wolf spirits who drowned or something for the sole purpose to vibe check the pack- a rumor that he’s all too happy to let proliferate and continuously feed him its byproducts: reverence, admiration, and avoidance. When some dense dog dares to inquire into his past, he’ll make clear in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t care to answer.
After initially, well, appearing, he climbed the ranks of Lupus, starting out slowly, but then advanced in noticeable leaps and bounds until he came to loftily rest at Beta.
Pack: Lupus
Crush: I pity all the unfortunate souls that fall for him.
Offspring: No.
Parents:
Siblings: Drowned
Song: Destiny (Neffex)
Other: No, those muscles aren’t effortless. He does indeed work for them. By swimming. And swim he does. Constantly. By an insanely precise schedule.
And does he want to ever be even momentarily kept from swimming? No.
Username: HeavensHens88
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Name: Willow
Age: 54 moons
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Female
Personality: Heeds higher authority, but not a dithering doormat, either- the ideal mid-ranked pack dog. Keeps to herself for the most part, but friendly and will have intelligent insight if someone takes the initiative to approach her. She has no problem issuing a quiet, but firm, “no” when a confrontation would be normally considered appropriate. The same applies to her children, or she simply avoids them when she knows she can’t deal with them.
Just seems to be an over-tolerant wallflower.
Breed: Purebred Nederlandse Kooikerhondje.
Description: Pretty little feathery thing. 15" tall. Her pelt consists of a golden chestnut saddle and patches over a flowing white base- tail, legs, belly, chest, chin, muzzle, and blaze. Soft, wavy coat with longer, feathery fringes off of her barrel, legs, tails, and ears. Eyes are browned amber. Think burnt syrup.
History: She was born into a professional kennel devoted to mass producing her breed. A series of fortunate events lead to her accidental release, or else she definitely still be there, and completely content with her imprisonment. Unable to comprehend leading herself rather than letting a leash do it for her, Willow remained right there on the property and nearly starved. It was only the disabled mouse that she accidentally killed and ate that kicked her inherently-deadened instinct into gear and got her moving. Diffident with her newfound freedom, she perused the woods for a couple of months, met a few strays in passing, heard unfounded whispers of some weird local cults, but saw no reason to alter her perfectly sufficient lifestyle of aimless wandering.
Then she met Thunder, another freed domestic, but this one had a goal: find those sketchy cults and discover the higher purpose that the ancestral wolves deemed for him!!11!!11!!!!!11!!!
It definitely wasn’t the hallmark romance- he was continuously chewing her out her for lack of driving ambition and “lifeless life”, she couldn’t stand his presumptuous arrogance and attempted to leave him in the dust every chance she got- but something happened, because now she’s pregnant, and he’s dead.
Oh, well, she figured she had nothing to lose, and went to join one of the cults so he could vicariously fulfill his destiny through his children.
0o0ps, so maybe she picked the wrong one.
Pack: Canis
Mate: He’s dead. No one here ever knew him, either.
Offspring: Smoke, Thorn, and Starlight.
Parents: Both pets
Siblings: Forgotten
Song: hide and seek (Imogen Heap)
Other: oh my gosh this poor woman is from my literal childhood. like,,,I’m talking,,,seven years old.
Oh, you KNOW I’m taking a huge risk by bringing her back to life here.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Smoke
Age: 17 moons
Rank: Hunter Novitiate
Gender: Male
Personality: He’s already done with societal living.
He doesn’t bother playing vigilant guardian or chivalrous hero for his sisters because he knows them for what they are. Tolerates Thorn for the most part, and even appreciates her at times, but even Starlight’s voice, let alone the whole dog, is poison straight into his veins. Getting caught in-between the two when hackles are up is and has been the worst thing imaginable.
He’ll do what is asked of him, and do it well, but that’ll be it. He’ll just be gone without a trace the exact moment he’s done his duty.
The reason he’ll yes you to death when all he wants to do is say no is just because it’s easier than a confrontation, because he fights more than enough of those in his own head.
But the more junk -whether it be complaints, demands, or expectations- that a specific dog forces on him, the more he comes to harbor a deep, unshakable loathing for them. They’re the ones who’ve made him like this, and yet they still go on their callous way while he’s struggling with the all-consuming sea they’ve dropped him in, weighted down and all trussed up to drown. His mentor is especially bad with (his/her) unending demands that even Smoke’s peers have testified to being excessive.
Low reserve of tolerance before he loses it; problem is, his fake calm is so well mastered that no one expects anything else. So he has to go scream in the woods a lot. There’s no one to vent to, because apparently no one sees the world like this but him. He used to ask, then quickly learned to shut up and shut in.
Oh, but they have to know. They just don’t want to. It’s too inconvenient to think things through.
He doesn’t really want to be like this, but the infuriating circumstances surrounding him -the outdated religion, his useless mother, inexistent father, and crazed sisters, the nonsensical pack hierarchy, the endless cycling of identical days and the shallow individuals who go through the motions and wear the same pathetic facades for all of them- have led him to believe that he’s stuck in the disassociative rut that life has dug out for him.
He’d be just fine if everyone left him ALONE, but since they DON’T, he has to devise his own alleviation from this sickening hopelessness.
Breed: Saluki/Kooikerhondje. Hardly differs from a full Saluki.
Description: Lean big boy. 26" tall. Solid black coat with cream unders, legs, chest, muzzle, and eyebrows. Silky soft texture, and it’s in perfectly condition from all the times he mindlessly grooms it. Feathers on legs and tail. Eyes are a blackened brown. Think burnt mud.
History: Born here and slunk through a typical puphood.
Pack: Canis
Crush: Very open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Thunder (dead) and Willow
Siblings: Thorn and Starlight
Song: It was UNBELIEVABLY hard to pick just one NF song for him, but in the end he just c l I c k e d with 10 Feet Down.
Other: Oh yes you’d better believe he runs like a Saluki.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Thorn
Age: 17 moons
Rank: Guardian Novitiate
Gender: Female
Personality: Often maintains a noncommittal, indifferent, and ignorant pretense for ease, but, really, a good rational head rests on her shoulders. Perceptive and often reads much further into something than the average dog. She just can’t be bothered letting on about just how much she knows, evaluates, and could significantly improve upon. “If they claimed the territory, it’s not my job to mark it.”
Prefers independence, because who else can she trust to get the job done right but herself? Also, it’s nice to keep all the praise for oneself. She likes to work her beauty, but solicits in an evasive, yet alluring way that keeps them guessing. Like the rest of her masquerading family, she’s great at keeping a poker face with the aid of imperceptible sarcasm. But definitely not her mother’s daughter all the way through- if it’s taken too far, she can more than hold her own in a verbal or physical conflict, probably thanks to the constant training her wonderful sister blesses her with. Really does try to love her brother and mother despite their tendency to take their convenient leave when things get rough, but Starlight is…beyond hope, and gets further from it with every groundless spat she starts.
Despite her untouchable, prickly exterior (look at that PUN), she actually cares deeply about the little people and greatly appreciates her pack’s compassionate take on the religion.
Though of course she’d have to put to death anyone who insinuated that she’s got soft spots.
Breed: Saluki/Kooikerhondje
Description: Attractive big girl who knows it. 25" tall. Her coat has a black-brindled brown overlay settled over creamy ginger edging. White unders, blaze, and ears. Feathering on ears, ankles, and tail. Mild amber eyes. Think unburnt sap.
History: Born here and skirted through a typical puphood.
Pack: Canis
Crush: Very open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Thunder (dead) and Willow
Siblings: Smoke and Starlight
Song: Apocalptica - I Don’t Care (Mariah Page cover)
Other: Leaves the territory every now and then for her own undisclosed purposes.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Starlight
Age: 17 moons
Rank: Hunter Novitiate
Gender: Female
Personality: The epitome of two-faced.
To the large majority of the pack, she’s the model novitiate with her dedication, dynamism, and quickness of both mind and body. Especially commendable are her attentiveness and corresponding compliments that prove how she strives to emulate her betters. Sometimes, she can get a little pushy, a little pretentious, and just a little overbearing, but she easily overcomes that with her validated popularity, right…?
To her family, she’s an unreasonable, violent terror. A professional attitudinizer who’s desperate to get attention any unstable way she can- which was likely a seed of deficiency sowed in all of them by their mother’s distant parenting style, but only in her did it manifest this extremely. Passive aggressive; those who even commit the slightest misstep over her -but are led to believe all is forgiven and forgotten- find themselves, ironically enough, anonymously blackmailed soon after. Sycophantic to the severest extent of the word; oh, yes, she knows just whose ripe egos to appeal to. Obsessive control freak; hoards, too. And, if she’s not preoccupied with any of her other psychotic pastimes, she can surely be found initiating a crazed catfight with her sister- the breaking up of which being the only time Smoke explodes in the presence of others. And she knows where to lay her traps for Thorn so that only the only witnesses are their blood. Additionally, she always sets it up just right to victimize herself perfectly- oh, of course she’s the poor innocent saint who just can’t catch a break from her big, bad sister’s merciless bullying!!11!!!1!!!!1!11!!!1!!!!1
So, she’s your friendly neighborhood canine Heather. What’s so bad about that, right?
Remember, she’s only a kid now.
Breed: Saluki/Kooikerhondje
Description: Medium feathery thing. 20” tall. Though she’s significantly smaller than her siblings, she still shares their tendency toward their father’s build. Solid ginger coat with white, unders, face, and randomized patches. Feathering on everything, even more so than Mom. Her eyes are intense gold- think sunlight at that one part of the afternoon when everything’s set ablaze by it and you can’t look anywhere without being overwhelmed by that obnoxious, obnoxious gold.
History: Born here and flounced her way through a typical puphood.
Pack: Canis
Crush: Very open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Thunder (dead) and Willow
Siblings: Smoke and Thorn
Song: Jekyll and Hyde (Jonathan Thulin)
Other: Don’t ask me how I’m going to be able to play this thing, because I haven’t the faintest idea.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Cal(liope)
Age: 37 moons
Rank: Omega
Gender: Male
Personality: A discordant mess of a dog.
I literally cannot say anything better for him.
Breed: Nothing too specific.
Description: The original ugly dog. Define greyhound frame. Herder-ish head, one collie and one retriever ear. Lifeless tan coat with a few tri-colored blotches scattered across his unders. Disproportionately huge paws. Thin tail that has a permanent crick in it from an old break. Dead brown eyes.
no the little algified tostito does not deserve a ref sheet
History: Oh, it’s a pitiful tale of disownment, abandonment, rejection, and exile. Do we want to hear it?
No.
Pack: Lupus
Mate/crush:….
Offspring:…………….
Parents: died in birthing this monstrosity.
Siblings: couldn’t make it out in time.
Song associated: I wouldn’t heap that truckload of shame on any song.
Other: To make it even worse, he’s neutered.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: …
Age: 27 moons
Rank: Unofficial everything, including a fourth healer that picks up where the other three leave off.
Gender: Female
Personality: She may not be able to verbally express herself, but what she does speaks louder than most uttered words.
Her inability to connect with words has evinced a -seemingly- total lack of responsiveness. Even when addressed directly, it’s extremely rare to elicit any kind of reaction from her. Sometimes, she’ll turn toward the speaker, but her eyes always look right through them, and never focus on their face. Though her body is indeed occupied, it hardly seems like it’s inhabited.
She’s come to be a harbinger of sorts. Usually, she disappears for lengths at a time, and returns with more than her fair share of kills to contribute. But it’s when she joins with communal hunting parties that things go south. See, whenever she tags along, it’s the undoubtable foreshadowing for a mishap. And, more often than not, she’s doing whatever it takes to preserve her packmates’ lives before anyone else can even react. Whether it’s a natural disaster, larger predator, or an armed human, she’s not only uncharacteristically responsive, but incredibly adept in saving the day singlepawedly.
But when she’s chased off to rid the expedition of the foreboding atmosphere she heralds, irreversible tragedy strikes.
And when someone does die -no matter if it was a preventable or inevitable loss- she disappears without a trace. Sometimes she’s gone for as much as a moon. But she always shows up, sooner or later, even though one would think there’s really nothing tethering her here. Oddly enough, she always returns around the same time that tenderly-fashioned memorials for the dead dog start popping up around the territory. They never do figure out who makes those.
One of her favorite pastimes seems to be tracking. If a pup or similarly incapable dog goes missing, she’ll return with them near immediately without even being officially involved in the searches. The same goes for inanimate objects that are treasured enough to be missed, too. Further, the Alpha is rapidly tiring of all the homeless wanderers she brings into camp.
If you can get past not being able to commune with your medic, you’ll find that she’s inexplicably skilled. Unlike others who hesitate, she not only works with a supernatural efficiency, but often uses cures never seen before. Even stranger, they often work far better than the usual treatment. And if the other self-righteous healers can’t find it in themselves to surrender an impossible case to her, they’ll find the perfect remedy waiting for them at their door.
Whatever others need, she rises to the challenge.
No matter the cost to herself.
Breed: The only ones evident are some types of pointer and retriever.
Description: 25” tall. She’s got a pointer’s deep chest and well-muscled limbs, but her dense coat and broad head are all retriever. For the most part, her coat is a light tawny that only darkens before it leads into the whitening of her paws and markings. Light black ticking in the white areas. Her unique markings, a white butterfly that hugs her chest and a bizarre, spider-like mask that covers her face, are solid and uninterrupted, however. Significant blackening around her eyes, which are a heavily shadowed amber.
History:
It started out nice enough. She was born to two loners in a healthy, exuberant litter of five. Fen and Ginseng had far more tolerance than the average parents- so much so that they had encouraged their first litter to stick around and form a family pack, and so they had the additional blessing of three more able hunters. Thanks to the ceaseless supply of rich food, they all filled out, right up to their full potential, and grew into the most atypically magnificent feral dogs.
And, on top of physically thriving, there wasn’t a whisker of malcontent among them. Sure, alone, their parents had their imperfections and shortcomings, but, together, they were everything a pup could ever want. The three eldest, Bighorn, Dall, and Mountain, were the pups’ idols, of course, but they never kept themselves on unreachable lofts. Bighorn was everybody’s strong, silent hero, whereas Dall was the practical jokester that never failed to get the whole lot laughing. Mountain was not only their second mother, but also the ever-open ear to whimper into and always-steady shoulder to cry on.
And the pups themselves were quite the dynamic gang. Hemlock, the oldest by three measly heartbeats, who had the hardest time keeping the militant order he insisted upon. Woodcock and Goshawk, the cunning duo that might’ve imprinted off Dall a little too much. Hollyhock, the fantastic whirlwind that was a combination of all of them, yet all her own dog. And, last but certainly not least, her, the brilliant, introspective, lovable runt that nobody would’ve ever dream of degrading for what she never was made aware of being.
It seemed to be an unbreakable peace.
But then her older sister, Mountain, started having fits. Little ones at first, so slight that she simply seemed to be unable to recover from a particularly rattling sneeze. “I’m fine,” she’d insist, then throw in the grating joke that came to be for all of them what was the report of nails on a conflicting surface for others. “My body’s just working out the kinks I put in it from being so amazingly agile.”
When Mountain declined to go on a much-anticipated hunting expedition due to a “fuzzy head, that’s all,” she stayed back as well. Because she knew. She suspected their parents realized, too, but went ahead anyway for reasons they kept to themselves. Perhaps they knew the rest of their children wouldn’t do well with being here for this.
The seizures started coming like the staged wave succession of a tsunami. At first, Mountain was able to get up afterwards, but as they progressed, she was no longer able to recover. Additionally, each one seemed to permanently rob her of a bodily function. First it was her voice, then it was her muscles in totality, but still her eyes stayed clear.
And it was with her eyes that she said goodbye.
She mourned her beloved sister quietly, but intensely. Everywhere she went, she would see something that sang Mountain and turn it into a quaint memorial. But even as she phased out of her grief, the notable change in her remained. As she drew even further into herself, she also became an unshakeable tagalong flea in her family’s pelts. She had to know where everyone was going, and if at all possible, she’d make sure she went right along with them. To put it simply, in thinking that death was a nearsighted force that one could evade by being farsighted, she’d become paranoid. Not for herself, but, rather, for everyone except herself, and, with the help of the hypervigilance that this paranoia was going to employ in her, she was going to make sure that she wasn’t going to lose anyone else.
How sadly mistaken she was.
It was on an elk hunt led by her older brothers, and an exclusive expedition for two reasons: besides the incredible fact that they’d purposely singled out a healthy, massive bull, it was also the pup’s first extreme endurance hunt.
Out of nowhere, she was swamped by a load of unforeseen apprehension, but kept her inexplicable worries to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was spoil Bighorn and Dall’s special day on the grounds that her whiskers were tingly.
Yet she found it impossible to keep her mind on the quarry, and, in the middle of the final kill rush, her paws swerved her right off the path and turned her easy lope into a dead bolt in the opposite direction.
All the triumphant howls behind her were cut short by the roar.
She turned around to see a wall of water-displaced earth bearing down on her helpless family.
She screamed her due warning, but they’d long lost their chance to escape it.
In mere heartbeats, they were gone.
But she found them all. Ginseng was the first, pinned beneath a diminutive log that was nothing more than a branch, really, but it had snapped her spine all the same. Hemlock might’ve successfully surfaced if it weren’t for horrific gash that neatly parted his belly, straight from his neck to his tail. Bighorn had their father’s scruff stubbornly clenched in his massive jaws, but he’d lost himself for his efforts to save Fen. Woodcock and Goshawk were buried barely a length apart, inseparable even in their death throes. When she found Hollyhock, her plucky sister’s lungs were still valiantly struggling with the muck that had slunk into her airways to snuff out her life, but even she left soon after being dug out.
Dall, her impossibly upbeat, lovably hilarious, dear big brother, was the only one responsive enough to react to his rescue. He raised his head, fixed his desperate sister with the gleaming brown eyes that couldn’t be anything but cheery, and filled her with a wild hope.
“Don’t go,” she pleaded with everything she had.
But he, too, was using his eyes to say goodbye.
Oh, the silence.
She replaced their evacuated bodies in the graves that’d claimed them. Then she fled as fast as her numb body would carry her.
She diffidently went through the motions just to keep herself breathing. Somewhere in the back of her dimly functioning mind, she knew that she couldn’t live alone and needed to look for a pack in order to survive.
And so, she began her search, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
The days blurred together meaninglessly. For what use is time if you have no one to keep it for?
For some reason, she kept on keeping on.
But when she finally did arrive in Lupus territory and was asked for her story, the words just didn’t come.
And never did again.
Her coping mechanism had manifested itself so that she’d never have to relive her trauma again. Subsequently, she found that she no longer processed by coherent thought, but simply did what instinct told her to. If a current in the air smelled wrong, if a patch of earth didn’t feel right underpaw, if the sky turned the wrong shade, she understood perfectly and acted accordingly.
In time, she became the perceptual phenomenon that could’ve saved ever member of her family.
At first, the tried to oust her. But they came to discover that, no matter if they exiled or banished or manually removed her, she’d still be there, clinging like a ghost to its grave.
Most of the pack titles her with the wonderfully original “The Mute,” or, the novitiate favorite, “The Freak,” but, even still, there are a brave few who whisper kinder names they’ve invented for her.
A huge majority believe -and treat her like- she’s deaf as well as speechless. Some have used her uncanny timing to pin her as a user of black magic, and that it’s all to win the pack’s good graces in order for a much darker scheme to congeal. A few even believe her to be a straight-up walking dead.
No, she’s no different from the next dog. It’s just that she’s exhausted every available faculty of herself in order to become the finely-tuned force for good that she is.
Because she can’t fail again.
Pack: Lupus
Crush: Open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Fen and Ginseng (both dead)
Siblings: Bighorn, Dall, Mountain, Hemlock, Woodcock, Goshawk, and Hollyhock (all dead)
Song associated: have to drive (Amanda Palmer)
Other:
Username: HeavensHens88
Coming soon: Asio
*disgruntled muttering*
Age: 54 moons
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Female
Personality: Heeds higher authority, but not a dithering doormat, either- the ideal mid-ranked pack dog. Keeps to herself for the most part, but friendly and will have intelligent insight if someone takes the initiative to approach her. She has no problem issuing a quiet, but firm, “no” when a confrontation would be normally considered appropriate. The same applies to her children, or she simply avoids them when she knows she can’t deal with them.
Just seems to be an over-tolerant wallflower.
Breed: Purebred Nederlandse Kooikerhondje.
Description: Pretty little feathery thing. 15" tall. Her pelt consists of a golden chestnut saddle and patches over a flowing white base- tail, legs, belly, chest, chin, muzzle, and blaze. Soft, wavy coat with longer, feathery fringes off of her barrel, legs, tails, and ears. Eyes are browned amber. Think burnt syrup.
History: She was born into a professional kennel devoted to mass producing her breed. A series of fortunate events lead to her accidental release, or else she definitely still be there, and completely content with her imprisonment. Unable to comprehend leading herself rather than letting a leash do it for her, Willow remained right there on the property and nearly starved. It was only the disabled mouse that she accidentally killed and ate that kicked her inherently-deadened instinct into gear and got her moving. Diffident with her newfound freedom, she perused the woods for a couple of months, met a few strays in passing, heard unfounded whispers of some weird local cults, but saw no reason to alter her perfectly sufficient lifestyle of aimless wandering.
Then she met Thunder, another freed domestic, but this one had a goal: find those sketchy cults and discover the higher purpose that the ancestral wolves deemed for him!!11!!11!!!!!11!!!
It definitely wasn’t the hallmark romance- he was continuously chewing her out her for lack of driving ambition and “lifeless life”, she couldn’t stand his presumptuous arrogance and attempted to leave him in the dust every chance she got- but something happened, because now she’s pregnant, and he’s dead.
Oh, well, she figured she had nothing to lose, and went to join one of the cults so he could vicariously fulfill his destiny through his children.
0o0ps, so maybe she picked the wrong one.
Pack: Canis
Mate: He’s dead. No one here ever knew him, either.
Offspring: Smoke, Thorn, and Starlight.
Parents: Both pets
Siblings: Forgotten
Song: hide and seek (Imogen Heap)
Other: oh my gosh this poor woman is from my literal childhood. like,,,I’m talking,,,seven years old.
Oh, you KNOW I’m taking a huge risk by bringing her back to life here.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Smoke
Age: 17 moons
Rank: Hunter Novitiate
Gender: Male
Personality: He’s already done with societal living.
He doesn’t bother playing vigilant guardian or chivalrous hero for his sisters because he knows them for what they are. Tolerates Thorn for the most part, and even appreciates her at times, but even Starlight’s voice, let alone the whole dog, is poison straight into his veins. Getting caught in-between the two when hackles are up is and has been the worst thing imaginable.
He’ll do what is asked of him, and do it well, but that’ll be it. He’ll just be gone without a trace the exact moment he’s done his duty.
The reason he’ll yes you to death when all he wants to do is say no is just because it’s easier than a confrontation, because he fights more than enough of those in his own head.
But the more junk -whether it be complaints, demands, or expectations- that a specific dog forces on him, the more he comes to harbor a deep, unshakable loathing for them. They’re the ones who’ve made him like this, and yet they still go on their callous way while he’s struggling with the all-consuming sea they’ve dropped him in, weighted down and all trussed up to drown. His mentor is especially bad with (his/her) unending demands that even Smoke’s peers have testified to being excessive.
Low reserve of tolerance before he loses it; problem is, his fake calm is so well mastered that no one expects anything else. So he has to go scream in the woods a lot. There’s no one to vent to, because apparently no one sees the world like this but him. He used to ask, then quickly learned to shut up and shut in.
Oh, but they have to know. They just don’t want to. It’s too inconvenient to think things through.
He doesn’t really want to be like this, but the infuriating circumstances surrounding him -the outdated religion, his useless mother, inexistent father, and crazed sisters, the nonsensical pack hierarchy, the endless cycling of identical days and the shallow individuals who go through the motions and wear the same pathetic facades for all of them- have led him to believe that he’s stuck in the disassociative rut that life has dug out for him.
He’d be just fine if everyone left him ALONE, but since they DON’T, he has to devise his own alleviation from this sickening hopelessness.
Breed: Saluki/Kooikerhondje. Hardly differs from a full Saluki.
Description: Lean big boy. 26" tall. Solid black coat with cream unders, legs, chest, muzzle, and eyebrows. Silky soft texture, and it’s in perfectly condition from all the times he mindlessly grooms it. Feathers on legs and tail. Eyes are a blackened brown. Think burnt mud.
History: Born here and slunk through a typical puphood.
Pack: Canis
Crush: Very open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Thunder (dead) and Willow
Siblings: Thorn and Starlight
Song: It was UNBELIEVABLY hard to pick just one NF song for him, but in the end he just c l I c k e d with 10 Feet Down.
Other: Oh yes you’d better believe he runs like a Saluki.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Thorn
Age: 17 moons
Rank: Guardian Novitiate
Gender: Female
Personality: Often maintains a noncommittal, indifferent, and ignorant pretense for ease, but, really, a good rational head rests on her shoulders. Perceptive and often reads much further into something than the average dog. She just can’t be bothered letting on about just how much she knows, evaluates, and could significantly improve upon. “If they claimed the territory, it’s not my job to mark it.”
Prefers independence, because who else can she trust to get the job done right but herself? Also, it’s nice to keep all the praise for oneself. She likes to work her beauty, but solicits in an evasive, yet alluring way that keeps them guessing. Like the rest of her masquerading family, she’s great at keeping a poker face with the aid of imperceptible sarcasm. But definitely not her mother’s daughter all the way through- if it’s taken too far, she can more than hold her own in a verbal or physical conflict, probably thanks to the constant training her wonderful sister blesses her with. Really does try to love her brother and mother despite their tendency to take their convenient leave when things get rough, but Starlight is…beyond hope, and gets further from it with every groundless spat she starts.
Despite her untouchable, prickly exterior (look at that PUN), she actually cares deeply about the little people and greatly appreciates her pack’s compassionate take on the religion.
Though of course she’d have to put to death anyone who insinuated that she’s got soft spots.
Breed: Saluki/Kooikerhondje
Description: Attractive big girl who knows it. 25" tall. Her coat has a black-brindled brown overlay settled over creamy ginger edging. White unders, blaze, and ears. Feathering on ears, ankles, and tail. Mild amber eyes. Think unburnt sap.
History: Born here and skirted through a typical puphood.
Pack: Canis
Crush: Very open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Thunder (dead) and Willow
Siblings: Smoke and Starlight
Song: Apocalptica - I Don’t Care (Mariah Page cover)
Other: Leaves the territory every now and then for her own undisclosed purposes.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Starlight
Age: 17 moons
Rank: Hunter Novitiate
Gender: Female
Personality: The epitome of two-faced.
To the large majority of the pack, she’s the model novitiate with her dedication, dynamism, and quickness of both mind and body. Especially commendable are her attentiveness and corresponding compliments that prove how she strives to emulate her betters. Sometimes, she can get a little pushy, a little pretentious, and just a little overbearing, but she easily overcomes that with her validated popularity, right…?
To her family, she’s an unreasonable, violent terror. A professional attitudinizer who’s desperate to get attention any unstable way she can- which was likely a seed of deficiency sowed in all of them by their mother’s distant parenting style, but only in her did it manifest this extremely. Passive aggressive; those who even commit the slightest misstep over her -but are led to believe all is forgiven and forgotten- find themselves, ironically enough, anonymously blackmailed soon after. Sycophantic to the severest extent of the word; oh, yes, she knows just whose ripe egos to appeal to. Obsessive control freak; hoards, too. And, if she’s not preoccupied with any of her other psychotic pastimes, she can surely be found initiating a crazed catfight with her sister- the breaking up of which being the only time Smoke explodes in the presence of others. And she knows where to lay her traps for Thorn so that only the only witnesses are their blood. Additionally, she always sets it up just right to victimize herself perfectly- oh, of course she’s the poor innocent saint who just can’t catch a break from her big, bad sister’s merciless bullying!!11!!!1!!!!1!11!!!1!!!!1
So, she’s your friendly neighborhood canine Heather. What’s so bad about that, right?
Remember, she’s only a kid now.
Breed: Saluki/Kooikerhondje
Description: Medium feathery thing. 20” tall. Though she’s significantly smaller than her siblings, she still shares their tendency toward their father’s build. Solid ginger coat with white, unders, face, and randomized patches. Feathering on everything, even more so than Mom. Her eyes are intense gold- think sunlight at that one part of the afternoon when everything’s set ablaze by it and you can’t look anywhere without being overwhelmed by that obnoxious, obnoxious gold.
History: Born here and flounced her way through a typical puphood.
Pack: Canis
Crush: Very open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Thunder (dead) and Willow
Siblings: Smoke and Thorn
Song: Jekyll and Hyde (Jonathan Thulin)
Other: Don’t ask me how I’m going to be able to play this thing, because I haven’t the faintest idea.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: Cal(liope)
Age: 37 moons
Rank: Omega
Gender: Male
Personality: A discordant mess of a dog.
I literally cannot say anything better for him.
Breed: Nothing too specific.
Description: The original ugly dog. Define greyhound frame. Herder-ish head, one collie and one retriever ear. Lifeless tan coat with a few tri-colored blotches scattered across his unders. Disproportionately huge paws. Thin tail that has a permanent crick in it from an old break. Dead brown eyes.
no the little algified tostito does not deserve a ref sheet
History: Oh, it’s a pitiful tale of disownment, abandonment, rejection, and exile. Do we want to hear it?
No.
Pack: Lupus
Mate/crush:….
Offspring:…………….
Parents: died in birthing this monstrosity.
Siblings: couldn’t make it out in time.
Song associated: I wouldn’t heap that truckload of shame on any song.
Other: To make it even worse, he’s neutered.
Username: HeavensHens88
Name: …
Age: 27 moons
Rank: Unofficial everything, including a fourth healer that picks up where the other three leave off.
Gender: Female
Personality: She may not be able to verbally express herself, but what she does speaks louder than most uttered words.
Her inability to connect with words has evinced a -seemingly- total lack of responsiveness. Even when addressed directly, it’s extremely rare to elicit any kind of reaction from her. Sometimes, she’ll turn toward the speaker, but her eyes always look right through them, and never focus on their face. Though her body is indeed occupied, it hardly seems like it’s inhabited.
She’s come to be a harbinger of sorts. Usually, she disappears for lengths at a time, and returns with more than her fair share of kills to contribute. But it’s when she joins with communal hunting parties that things go south. See, whenever she tags along, it’s the undoubtable foreshadowing for a mishap. And, more often than not, she’s doing whatever it takes to preserve her packmates’ lives before anyone else can even react. Whether it’s a natural disaster, larger predator, or an armed human, she’s not only uncharacteristically responsive, but incredibly adept in saving the day singlepawedly.
But when she’s chased off to rid the expedition of the foreboding atmosphere she heralds, irreversible tragedy strikes.
And when someone does die -no matter if it was a preventable or inevitable loss- she disappears without a trace. Sometimes she’s gone for as much as a moon. But she always shows up, sooner or later, even though one would think there’s really nothing tethering her here. Oddly enough, she always returns around the same time that tenderly-fashioned memorials for the dead dog start popping up around the territory. They never do figure out who makes those.
One of her favorite pastimes seems to be tracking. If a pup or similarly incapable dog goes missing, she’ll return with them near immediately without even being officially involved in the searches. The same goes for inanimate objects that are treasured enough to be missed, too. Further, the Alpha is rapidly tiring of all the homeless wanderers she brings into camp.
If you can get past not being able to commune with your medic, you’ll find that she’s inexplicably skilled. Unlike others who hesitate, she not only works with a supernatural efficiency, but often uses cures never seen before. Even stranger, they often work far better than the usual treatment. And if the other self-righteous healers can’t find it in themselves to surrender an impossible case to her, they’ll find the perfect remedy waiting for them at their door.
Whatever others need, she rises to the challenge.
No matter the cost to herself.
Breed: The only ones evident are some types of pointer and retriever.
Description: 25” tall. She’s got a pointer’s deep chest and well-muscled limbs, but her dense coat and broad head are all retriever. For the most part, her coat is a light tawny that only darkens before it leads into the whitening of her paws and markings. Light black ticking in the white areas. Her unique markings, a white butterfly that hugs her chest and a bizarre, spider-like mask that covers her face, are solid and uninterrupted, however. Significant blackening around her eyes, which are a heavily shadowed amber.
History:
It started out nice enough. She was born to two loners in a healthy, exuberant litter of five. Fen and Ginseng had far more tolerance than the average parents- so much so that they had encouraged their first litter to stick around and form a family pack, and so they had the additional blessing of three more able hunters. Thanks to the ceaseless supply of rich food, they all filled out, right up to their full potential, and grew into the most atypically magnificent feral dogs.
And, on top of physically thriving, there wasn’t a whisker of malcontent among them. Sure, alone, their parents had their imperfections and shortcomings, but, together, they were everything a pup could ever want. The three eldest, Bighorn, Dall, and Mountain, were the pups’ idols, of course, but they never kept themselves on unreachable lofts. Bighorn was everybody’s strong, silent hero, whereas Dall was the practical jokester that never failed to get the whole lot laughing. Mountain was not only their second mother, but also the ever-open ear to whimper into and always-steady shoulder to cry on.
And the pups themselves were quite the dynamic gang. Hemlock, the oldest by three measly heartbeats, who had the hardest time keeping the militant order he insisted upon. Woodcock and Goshawk, the cunning duo that might’ve imprinted off Dall a little too much. Hollyhock, the fantastic whirlwind that was a combination of all of them, yet all her own dog. And, last but certainly not least, her, the brilliant, introspective, lovable runt that nobody would’ve ever dream of degrading for what she never was made aware of being.
It seemed to be an unbreakable peace.
But then her older sister, Mountain, started having fits. Little ones at first, so slight that she simply seemed to be unable to recover from a particularly rattling sneeze. “I’m fine,” she’d insist, then throw in the grating joke that came to be for all of them what was the report of nails on a conflicting surface for others. “My body’s just working out the kinks I put in it from being so amazingly agile.”
When Mountain declined to go on a much-anticipated hunting expedition due to a “fuzzy head, that’s all,” she stayed back as well. Because she knew. She suspected their parents realized, too, but went ahead anyway for reasons they kept to themselves. Perhaps they knew the rest of their children wouldn’t do well with being here for this.
The seizures started coming like the staged wave succession of a tsunami. At first, Mountain was able to get up afterwards, but as they progressed, she was no longer able to recover. Additionally, each one seemed to permanently rob her of a bodily function. First it was her voice, then it was her muscles in totality, but still her eyes stayed clear.
And it was with her eyes that she said goodbye.
She mourned her beloved sister quietly, but intensely. Everywhere she went, she would see something that sang Mountain and turn it into a quaint memorial. But even as she phased out of her grief, the notable change in her remained. As she drew even further into herself, she also became an unshakeable tagalong flea in her family’s pelts. She had to know where everyone was going, and if at all possible, she’d make sure she went right along with them. To put it simply, in thinking that death was a nearsighted force that one could evade by being farsighted, she’d become paranoid. Not for herself, but, rather, for everyone except herself, and, with the help of the hypervigilance that this paranoia was going to employ in her, she was going to make sure that she wasn’t going to lose anyone else.
How sadly mistaken she was.
It was on an elk hunt led by her older brothers, and an exclusive expedition for two reasons: besides the incredible fact that they’d purposely singled out a healthy, massive bull, it was also the pup’s first extreme endurance hunt.
Out of nowhere, she was swamped by a load of unforeseen apprehension, but kept her inexplicable worries to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was spoil Bighorn and Dall’s special day on the grounds that her whiskers were tingly.
Yet she found it impossible to keep her mind on the quarry, and, in the middle of the final kill rush, her paws swerved her right off the path and turned her easy lope into a dead bolt in the opposite direction.
All the triumphant howls behind her were cut short by the roar.
She turned around to see a wall of water-displaced earth bearing down on her helpless family.
She screamed her due warning, but they’d long lost their chance to escape it.
In mere heartbeats, they were gone.
But she found them all. Ginseng was the first, pinned beneath a diminutive log that was nothing more than a branch, really, but it had snapped her spine all the same. Hemlock might’ve successfully surfaced if it weren’t for horrific gash that neatly parted his belly, straight from his neck to his tail. Bighorn had their father’s scruff stubbornly clenched in his massive jaws, but he’d lost himself for his efforts to save Fen. Woodcock and Goshawk were buried barely a length apart, inseparable even in their death throes. When she found Hollyhock, her plucky sister’s lungs were still valiantly struggling with the muck that had slunk into her airways to snuff out her life, but even she left soon after being dug out.
Dall, her impossibly upbeat, lovably hilarious, dear big brother, was the only one responsive enough to react to his rescue. He raised his head, fixed his desperate sister with the gleaming brown eyes that couldn’t be anything but cheery, and filled her with a wild hope.
“Don’t go,” she pleaded with everything she had.
But he, too, was using his eyes to say goodbye.
Oh, the silence.
She replaced their evacuated bodies in the graves that’d claimed them. Then she fled as fast as her numb body would carry her.
She diffidently went through the motions just to keep herself breathing. Somewhere in the back of her dimly functioning mind, she knew that she couldn’t live alone and needed to look for a pack in order to survive.
And so, she began her search, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
The days blurred together meaninglessly. For what use is time if you have no one to keep it for?
For some reason, she kept on keeping on.
But when she finally did arrive in Lupus territory and was asked for her story, the words just didn’t come.
And never did again.
Her coping mechanism had manifested itself so that she’d never have to relive her trauma again. Subsequently, she found that she no longer processed by coherent thought, but simply did what instinct told her to. If a current in the air smelled wrong, if a patch of earth didn’t feel right underpaw, if the sky turned the wrong shade, she understood perfectly and acted accordingly.
In time, she became the perceptual phenomenon that could’ve saved ever member of her family.
At first, the tried to oust her. But they came to discover that, no matter if they exiled or banished or manually removed her, she’d still be there, clinging like a ghost to its grave.
Most of the pack titles her with the wonderfully original “The Mute,” or, the novitiate favorite, “The Freak,” but, even still, there are a brave few who whisper kinder names they’ve invented for her.
A huge majority believe -and treat her like- she’s deaf as well as speechless. Some have used her uncanny timing to pin her as a user of black magic, and that it’s all to win the pack’s good graces in order for a much darker scheme to congeal. A few even believe her to be a straight-up walking dead.
No, she’s no different from the next dog. It’s just that she’s exhausted every available faculty of herself in order to become the finely-tuned force for good that she is.
Because she can’t fail again.
Pack: Lupus
Crush: Open
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Fen and Ginseng (both dead)
Siblings: Bighorn, Dall, Mountain, Hemlock, Woodcock, Goshawk, and Hollyhock (all dead)
Song associated: have to drive (Amanda Palmer)
Other:
Username: HeavensHens88
Coming soon: Asio
*disgruntled muttering*
Last edited:
- Thread starter
- #30
excellent idea, you Wisconsin amermaid <333
go for it broski
zesty zesty[[[sad cat noises]]] dude I love him
fixed
These bois are absolutely metal holy crap
except Soft Boy but he's like the softest of the soft andhsjjskdksk just yes uwu
we've called him soft boi for so long im gonna forget his everchanging name XD
the man of the hour, the ageless male
lil cal my DOG <33
as always sary
your charries are gucci
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