«{~:-HOUSE OF WOLVES-:~}» A Dog Role Play

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Name: Meilin

Age: 17 Moons

Rank: Guaridan Novitiate

Gender: Female

Personality: Meilan is the textbook definition of sociopath. She feels little to no empathy towards anyone, even her own family. Most of the time she regards you with disinterest or agitation, and if she is interested, it's very dull.
She rarely feels happiness, but when she does its intense and very much there. Adrenaline junky to the max. If it'll let her feel something other then agitation, she'll do it, even if its risky. Her most common phrase is simply, "I'm here for a good time, not a long time."
For Meilan, life is simply a game and she is the player. Each dog in a pawn to her, serving nothing but as a crunch to her ulterior motive. What is that, you'll ask? Simply to get to the top. She wants as much control, as much power as she can possibly get, even if it means fighting her way to the top, to alpha.
For how young she is, she is incredibly intelligent. If you're going to be the player of the massive game of life, you need to be smart. Quick, stealthy, good at covering her tracks and incredibly good at lying if she gets in trouble. A sweet, sweet talker when she needs to be. Being one of the most attentive Guardian novitiates, shes quite the favorite amongst teachers, allowing her to get her way out of most situations.
She doesn't really care if she loses friends. She doesn't really have any, and as stated, dogs are just her ladder to the top. Despises most and is not kind in any sense, except to her teachers. Prone to short bouts of aggression, but so far has not physically hurt another dog.
She's very aware that nothing and not one is permanent, everything is constantly moving and everything will come and go, at some point or another. She softened questions why she, a diminutive dog among billions, was chosen to be put where she was. How she survived amongst the many that were destined to die, lined up like lambs at the slaughter.
Or maybe she wasn't chosen. Maybe she simply made too many mistakes that landed her in a place of hallowed emotions, quite simply nothing other then her own doing.
How did she land herself to inhabit the greatness of the two packs?
Who would ever know?


Breed/species: Saluki Mix

Pelt description: Thin black pelt, typical Saluki ears and tail. Her ears are black fading into red-brown.

Eye color: Dark amber-gold.

Build: Larger then both her sisters, and stronger then a normal Saluki. Long legs, not too much different from a typical Saluki.

History: Unlike every other story, Meilin's life didn't start that great. She and her three siblings were born in the beginning of winter. Born to two runaway strays, a black Saluki and a ginger and white Saluki mix, they struggling to survive. Meilin, Sintari, Ambi, and Finn. Finn, who was the littlest, didn't make it long. He died shortly after Meilin opened her eyes, and she barely remembered him.
So, it left the three sisters. Just as they thought they were going to make it through the winter unscathed, Meilin fell ill.
She nearly died, but miraculously she fought back against Death, and survived. All she remembered was the feeling of freezing cold that ran through her veins and froze her bones, but at the same time the feeling of burning alive.
But nonetheless she survived to tell the tale.
But she blamed her parents for the whole thing.
She felt nothing when she snapped at her parents, blaming them for having pups in the winter, for losing her brother and her nearly dying because of the cold that caused her illness.
She was more closed off from her parents then both her siblings. She took her own path, played her own game, hunting for herself and only herself, even at only 6 months old.
Until a tragedy struck the heart of the torn family pack.
A pack of traveling dogs had attacked their small camp, stealing their prey and murdering her father right in front of Ida's eyes.
Not that Meilin had been there.
She had come back to a destroyed camp, the ground slick with blood and the still body of her father at her remaining family's paws.
Sintari blamed herself.
Ambi just silently went on her way, taking care of the family.
Meilin felt almost next to nothing.
Something had struck her heart and froze it completely. She had felt something when he had died, but it was only a sort of sad acceptance. She hadn't even tried to comfort her family, not Sintari when she broke down or her mother and Ambi, who, albeit grieving, kept strong.
It was a strange sense of whenever something happened, she just didn't feel anything in regard to it, except maybe anger or jealousy.
Two months passed. Sintari's mental health went spiraling down into something that only she herself could save herself from. Even when she begged Meilin to help her, to do something, Meilin only looked at her with a blank stare and coldly refused. Ambi and her mother were holding out, though.
As the story would have it, their mother soon passed when they were 8 months old. From what, no one could really tell, she seemed to have just crumbled at Meilin's paws, shuddering for a few moments and then was gone.
Meilin wouldn't admit it, but her mother's death hit her a little harder then her father, but nothing like it normally should.
She wasn't sure how they did it, but she, Sintari, and Ambi survived by themselves, and were soon found by a Lupus hunting party.
Meilan, despite being in the same pack as her siblings, cut herself off from them entire, pursuing as a Guardian.

Pack: Lupus

Mate/Crush: None, but idk why you would want her lol

Offspring: None.

Parents: Two random dogs. Doesnt matter, they're dead anyway lol

Siblings: Ambi, Sintari.

Song associated: Centuries— Fall Out Boy. Natural— Imagine Dragons.

Other: The edge-queen you have (not) been waiting for :D

Username: @Cluckcluck1215

__________________

Name: Ambi

Age: 17 Moons

Rank: Hunter Novitiate

Gender: Female

Personality: Describe the opposite of Meilan. Soft spoken, and motherly, it's hard to see how Meilan and Ambi are sisters. If there's ever a fight between her sisters or the other novitiates, she will quickly disfuse of the situation.
Empathetic, she hates to see dogs in pain. If someone's down, shes the one you want to come to. Quite smart and gives good advice, and if she ever raises her voice, its because she adamantly uplifting someone who is talking bad about themselves.
She's very understanding, but really dislikes it when others lie. She doesn't understand why someone wouldn't just come clean. If you were honest you would get in less trouble. She knows how to take a joke unlike her sisters, and it's difficult to hurt her feelings because she tries to understand no matter what you did. Will try and find the good in literally everyone.
She wholeheartedly believes in the wolves, but isn't too fond of the coyotes because they are so violent, but doesn't say anything. Has high respect for her superiors.

Breed/species: Saluki mix.

Pelt description: Red Saluki. White belly, chest, throat and lower muzzle. Brown and black ears. Feathered legs.

Eye color: Soft amber.

Build: She looks like a typical Saluki, albeit smaller then both her sisters.

History: Ambi never held a grudge against either of her parents like Meilan had. She didn't see what her mother would have done wrong— it wasn't her fault. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and it landed her in a situation she had no control over.
When their father was killed, she broke, unlike Meilan. He had taught her everything, how to hunt, basic healing and herb knowledge, and any skill she would need to know.
But then he was taken away.
The worst to take it was Sintari. And when Meilan refused to comfort her sister, Ambi was there every single second. She refused to leave her sisters side, and soon they became more inseparable then before, both watching Meilan grow into something that was no longer their sister.
Ambi missed Meilan. The real Meilan, not the emotionless imposter planted before her. No, that creature was not the pup she once knew.
When their mother passed at Meilan's feet, Ambi had to drag Sintari half the way. She had no longer wanted to do it, and was caving. But Ambi wouldn't let her.
"You have to keep going, Sintari. Because you did not just come this far to just come this far." She stared down at her sister, meeting her dull gray eyes. "Okay? Now get up. You're a warrior and you still have something to prove, but you won't prove it if you stay there."
"Warrior?" Sintari echoed softly, tilting her head slightly.
"Warrior." Ambi affirmed, giving a slight smile.
And from then, she saw her sister improve completely, and she saw the sister she used to have when they found and joined Lupus pack.
She originally wanted to be a healer, but when that spot was filled, she pursued as a hunter with Sintari, whilst Meilan broke off from the pair.

Pack: Lupus

Mate/Crush: None, open.

Offspring: None.

Parents: ajakshkahajs they're dead

Siblings: Sintari, Meilan.

Song associated: Gone, Gone, Gone— Phillip Phillip's

Other: no I dont care about genetics

Username: @Cluckcluck1215

___________________

Name: Sintari

Age: 17 Moons

Rank: Hunter Novitiate

Gender: Female

Personality: If Meilan is like the night, dangerous, cold and harsh, and Ambi is like the day, warm, gentle and bright, then Sintari was caught dangling between the two. She's not completely hopeless like she was only a few months ago, but she's still not completely okay. She's prone to disappearing for a few days at a time, then coming back and not saying where she went. Even though she's very hard working, shes not quite the teacher sfavprite since she often vanishes with no warning.
She has a good heart with the right intentions, but doesn't really know how to express it, and when she tries and give advice it comes of as awkward. Not very social, she's not the greatest at interacting with others.
Doesn't really believe in the wolves, but believes dogs should just do whatever they want. Pessimistic, but she's a fighter. She knows she'll get through whatever comes her way.
She despises Meilan with all her heart. She doesn't think that she can ever truly be kind again, even when Ambi tries to talk to her. It's not uncommon for them to get into fights, even though Ambi talks them down from it quickly.
Creative and intelligent, quick at picking up new things and new skills, and remembers information very well. Very attentive and a good listener.

Breed/species: Saluki mix.

Pelt description: White/cream Saluki. Thick feathery tail and fluffy ears, fluffy neck. Thick scar running down her shoulder and across her side.

Eye color: Pale gray.

Build: Caught between Ambi and Meilan height wise. Her shoulders are a little broader then a normal Saluki, and her legs aren't stick thin like normal purebreds, either, showing her fathers mutt side a little more then her sisters.

History: She remembers her fathers death vividly. She had been the only one in the small camp with her father at the time when the dogs attacked. Five of them, three giant males and two females who were just as big. They ransacked their camp, destroyed it. Two Saluki mutts were no match against them. They had swatted her aside like she was nothing but a fly, ripping her side open and tossing her into the bushes.
She had watching, paralyzed with pain and trepidation, as they tore into her father before her eyes and took off with the remaining prey. Sintari has just laid in the bushes, unable to move until her mother and Ambi found her.
It had broke her.
She didn't care about the physical pain she had suffered, she had just watch her father get torn to literal pieces before her. Melian didn't try to understand. Her mother tried, but was dealing with her own grief. But Ambi understood.
And she was there every second.
Every second it all got to much, every second when their mother passed suddenly, and when she wanted to give up before they found Lupus.
"Warrior." Ambi had told her. No, Sintari was no warrior in her own mind, but to Ambi she was, and that was enough. Someone who was constantly there for her was enough.
And Lupus became her new home from them on, pursuing as a hunter.

Pack: Lupus

Mate/Crush: None, open.

Offspring: None.

Parents: y'all should know this by now they both went bye bye

Siblings: Ambi, Meilan.

Song associated: drowning.— The Eden Project. Medicine— Daughter.

Other: N/A

Username: @Cluckcluck1215

ajakjsakjsiahs igotcarriedawayimsorryigotheideainthemiddleofthenight
 
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The young black labrador had been awake for awhile, laying down on the stiff floor of the Canis pack healer's den. She looked up at the small holes in the dirt wall, the holes that held different herbs of all kinds of uses. The medical practices of the dogs were nothing like those of the humans she would assist, Foxglove thought to herself. All morning she's been waiting for Fuchsia to wake up- she had something to tell her. Then the snarls from outside reached her ears. "Larkspur, did you hear that? Whats going on?"




"Every morning has been a slow morning, as of late" Petrel snarled. His golden eyes stared menacingly into Arrow and Soleil's. The Canis secretary had strange eyes- one iris was blue, the other was brown.
"Heres the deal," Petrel started, his hackles raised high. "We want a deer today. Lately you've just been bringing back small prey and berries- we're sick of it. Theres plenty of deer around this season- namely fawns and their mothers. You have until the end of the day." He took a step back, seeminly done with his tirade. But, of course, there was one last thing that needed to be done. "Avalanche." The coyote called out in a cool, casual voice. His eyes casted from Guillemot back to his partner in crime.
"Put a nick in his ear."

View attachment 2239062
Larkspur turned her head swiftly to the den entrance, and then back to Foxglove, "Now that you mention it, that does sound a bit unusual. Should we go see what's happening?" she trotted forward a few paces and stuck her head out of the den to get a look at all these shenanigans.
 
Name: Flori
Age: 12 years or 144 moons
Rank: guardian
Gender: female
Personality: Friendly and cheerful, never acts as though her age slows her down.
Smart. She emanates an openness and eagerness to help her pack mates. However, she dislikes the ‘only the strong belong’ mantra of the Lupus and can become quite passionate about it at times. It’s personal for her. If need be she can be a tiny ball of anger and mad battle skills, though her height limits their effectiveness. She truly does scare the younger dogs of Canis, though. (That means all of the dogs in Canis.)
Like a mother, she guides the guardian novitiates of Canis and makes sure they don’t get out of line. She is infamous for preventing what she considers “bullying,” though it is often harmless teasing. They don’t always like her for that. But everyone listens to Flori.
Breed/species: Swedish Vallhund
Pelt description: thick. Like a wolf’s.
Wolf-grey.
Eye color: brown
Build: like a wolf reincarnate blessed with the legs of a Corgi.
13 inches tall.
Has enough muscles to make many Lupus members jealous.
CFF019F9-A07D-4AFD-B23D-0FD2F2312B35.jpeg

History: For five years, Flori herded cattle. In the sixth year, her owners sold the last one.
Flori now had little purpose in life. She invited dogs to her home in the barn that she would have, until recently, driven away. Then she valued the safety of the cattle. Now she valued companionship. The attention of her owners just wasn’t enough.
Now Flori heard rumors about the dogs in the woods far west of her home from a wanderer passing through. They strove to live like the wolves who had lived there and carved a life for themselves in it.
Here Flori ate kibble that she hardly felt she earned.
It was a dark night when that stranger came that finally told her all she wanted to know. Stormy, too, but even if it had been clear, it would be a new moon.
The moon grew full. She casually toyed with the idea of going there.
Her favorite human, her Master, left for college and didn’t come back. But she didn’t know why he left, of course. She waited for him, but she wasn’t one of those patient dogs who waited forever, unfortunately.
The moon waned to a sliver. She felt idle and confused. Why wouldn’t he come back?
Her owners still walked her everyday, but the lack of distracting exercise that she once had was making her antsy.
That’s when they gave her a bath. Only He gave her a bath, and even then she barely tolerated it.
She hated water.
She never came back.
She went on a journey that lasted many nights. The moon was at its first quarter when she arrived at Lupus pack. She was hungry. She had taught herself to hunt, but she wasn’t very good at it. And when you have short legs that must travel a journey of many miles, you’re always hungry.
Flori was about to stroll right into Lupus when she was intercepted by a patrol. She relayed her interest in becoming a part of their pack.
The Stick of Divining shot that down. She came an inch short. A smidgen! But she was rejected. This was the worst moment of her history, hangry, being escorted to Lupus border, feeling powerless.
But she didn’t give up. Truly, she didn’t have the bravery to give up and go on the long return journey home. So it wasn’t really a brave move when she applied to Canis, that is at least where the Lupus dogs decided she belonged. She hadn’t even known there were two packs.
She became a guardian, adversary of the Lupus. She may be old, but she still does her job vigorously.
Pack: Canis
Mate/Crush: she’s spayed
Offspring: refer to the above
Parents: dead, most likely
Siblings: out there
Song associated:
Other: The dog who had a mid-life crisis that was ended by her hate for water.
Username: @Amer
 
Name: Cody
Age: 11
Rank: Hunter or Beta (preferably)
Gender: Male
Personality: Kind hearted. wants to be a leader and step up. He is a big goofy dog with a kind heart and a great sense of humor. He has discipline, but lacks confidence, and needs another dogs support to boost him and build him up. (hahns, character i will make later) He is a strong leader, not lacking in leadership qualities, and ready to defend and protect not only his pack, but his friends.
Breed/species: Miniature Schnauzer
Pelt description: He has an all white pelt, with black dots and a few grey splotches.
Eye color: Pale yellow
Build: Small but strong, he has a strong body, and despite his height being about 2 feet, he can scare off bigger dogs pretty easily. He is strong but fit, fast and nimble, and can fit in tight spaces if needed.
History: Cody was the last one left. When he was born, his parents left him in the dust. They forgot about him, and he had to raise himself. Left alone in a cave at just 3 weeks old, Cody was determined to survive. He later found his littermate hahns, the last of his siblings, who became his best friend and one true supporter.
Pack: Canis
Mate/Crush: Crush on Sadie (character i will add later)
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Gone....died
Siblings: Hahns is the only one left
Song associated:
Other:
Username:
 
Name: Cody
Age: 11
Rank: Hunter or Beta (preferably)
Gender: Male
Personality: Kind hearted. wants to be a leader and step up. He is a big goofy dog with a kind heart and a great sense of humor. He has discipline, but lacks confidence, and needs another dogs support to boost him and build him up. (hahns, character i will make later) He is a strong leader, not lacking in leadership qualities, and ready to defend and protect not only his pack, but his friends.
Breed/species: Miniature Schnauzer
Pelt description: He has an all white pelt, with black dots and a few grey splotches.
Eye color: Pale yellow
Build: Small but strong, he has a strong body, and despite his height being about 2 feet, he can scare off bigger dogs pretty easily. He is strong but fit, fast and nimble, and can fit in tight spaces if needed.
History: Cody was the last one left. When he was born, his parents left him in the dust. They forgot about him, and he had to raise himself. Left alone in a cave at just 3 weeks old, Cody was determined to survive. He later found his littermate hahns, the last of his siblings, who became his best friend and one true supporter.
Pack: Canis
Mate/Crush: Crush on Sadie (character i will add later)
Offspring: N/A
Parents: Gone....died
Siblings: Hahns is the only one left
Song associated:
Other:
Username:
My character, Soleil is already secretary (beta) of Canis, sorry.
 
Name: (The) Vine
Age: 167 moons
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Female
Personality: She knows what she’s got left is far left than what she started it, so she’s living it up.
Companionly to everyone who welcomes it, but standoffish to those who don’t. Incisive, forthright, and blunt; doesn’t beat around the bush about anything, whether it be a decision, declaration, or defamation. She’ll listen to anyone, but, depending on just who you are, watch out for potential treachery in her advice. Persuasive as anything; she’ll manipulate someone into thinking her interjection was all their own idea. Since she’s been around for so long, she has blackmail on practically everyone, and you bet your barks she won’t hesitate to use it to get her way.
Pretty much above the law. Fears no one, perhaps because she has nothing to lose. Has no issue telling anyone off and will do so in the most dramatic and public way possible. Yet felicific and downplays a lot. Insouciant; maybe her lightheartedness goes too far, but, hey, why waste time on tears? She lives another fifty years. Totally debonair about everything in her past, including her son’s death. She knows that grief comes with the territory; dogs who can’t get past their losses really irritate her, and she has no pity for them. Rather, she’ll tell all the woe-is-me’s, right to their face, to get off their sorry tails and make their existence worthwhile.
Flirts with Blizzard. Non-stop. And he can’t escape her because she’s always in his den to be tended to by Heather. She’d do the same with Spire if it weren’t for the way he just shuts down. But, no, the old deflated fart’s no fun.
Oh, hO, HO, when it comes to the kids, The Vine is a whole ‘nother creature. She absolutely loves them all, especially her most recent great-grandpups. She’s always spinning up new yarns to regale them with. Best of all, she’s the biggest enabler of illegal teenage jaunts. She covers for them for no cost other than the occasional visit- and she is a pro at what she does.
And if they’re hesitant about going through with something that doesn’t exactly align with pack law?
She’ll give them a hearty slap and egg ‘em on with her classic motivational speech:
“Do it for The Vine.”
Breed: Solid Border Collie
Description: 19” tall. For how rough of condition the rest of her is in, her coat has faired the years pretty well- it’s still nicely uniform in thickness and kept relatively clean. Color patches -just head and hindquarters- are a luscious chocolatey maroon. Bow legged in both ends. Dysplasia of practically everything, but has that stopped her yet? Nicely fluff-framed head true to her breed, but age’s whitening has widened her blaze significantly. Brown eyes that are getting increasingly milky, thanks to cataracts. Additionally, her right eye is lazy- when she focuses on something new, it takes a while to follow the left, and often never gets there. Lots of chipped, overgrown, and outright missing toenails and teeth.
Vine ref sheet.jpg

History:
So she obviously started out with humans, because, last time I checked, the wilds ain’t producing purebreds. Does she remember how it went? Probably. Does she care? Not one bit. Is it at all relevant to current life? Highly unlikely. Do I need to write it out? HECK NAW.
When her son was born, she was determined to name him Avocado.
But no one would use his given name, so, she, like any good law-abiding citizen, waltzed up to the current Alpha with her crotch spawn dangling from her jaws, and was like, “Tell me what you’d call this thing, because apparently Avocado isn’t socially acceptable.”
Ledge must’ve been having frosty thoughts, but Ice it was.
To be honest, Vine never was completely sure who Ice’s father was. Back in the old days, they did love right. You stole and broke hearts in a rapid succession similar to how a squirrel treats nuts. None of this forever nonsense that the kids of today swear by.
Besides, Ice’s coat was only a few shades off of hers and otherwise followed her phenotype to a near T, so process of elimination wasn’t going to be of any help. Also, by the time he was born, she was no longer on good terms with either of the two likeliest sires, so digging into that wouldn’t reap anything but an ugly mess.
But the nosy little rat of hers had to look around the pack and then want to know why other pups had two parents to his ostentatious one.
“Fathers are fickle things. You got one today, you don’t got one tomorrow. Then you’ll have a new one the day after that. Don’t sweat it, kid.”
It seemed he didn’t.
Especially when he grew up and loved in a similar fashion to his mother.
Vine was always keenly aware that she’d made this monster but was never the least bit remorseful for it. She knew she got looks, especially from Ice’s mates when she never once condemned him for his wandering affections, but she never broke her insolent stride.
And the grandchildren. Pups were eh, but grandpups were so much better. For one, it’s not your fault if they turn out rotten.
Oh, she certainly had a blast giving them the time of their lives- and all the better if their happiness came at the expense of the adults’ sanity.
Then, slowly, Apollo, Hestia, and Heather’s entire generation became Vine’s grandpups.
And then the generation after them.
And so on.

Sometime during all of this, Ice died.
What did Vine have to say for him?
Something, indeed, at his funeral, and I quote, “Nice kid, that Av—Ice, but good riddance.”

She’s not quite sure when she started referring to herself in the third person and tacking on an article. One day, she decided that she wanted to be larger than life and that’s how she achieved it. Overhearing “The Vine---” in a conversation gives her ego the biggest thrill, and to deny her of it is a cruel thing indeed.

Last generation’s grandchildren will come up to her and ask, “Vine, you’re not still up to your old antics, are you?”
She’ll shoot down their suspicions with a dismissive wave of the paw. “Oh, no, child, I’m much too old for any mischief.”
But she hasn’t changed.
Not one bit.

Calls her dead son Avocado when no one’s looking.

Pack: Lupus
Mate: tO aLl tHe dOgS I hAvE LoVEd BEfORE
Offspring: Ice (DEAD)
Parents: can you even imagine how dead these are
Siblings: even if they’re domestics, they couldn’t outlive her
Song Associated: Happy Days Theme
Other: I didn’t know how desperately I needed a pack grandma until I did.
Username: HeavensHens88
 
Name: (The) Vine
Age: 167 moons
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Female
Personality: She knows what she’s got left is far left than what she started it, so she’s living it up.
Companionly to everyone who welcomes it, but standoffish to those who don’t. Incisive, forthright, and blunt; doesn’t beat around the bush about anything, whether it be a decision, declaration, or defamation. She’ll listen to anyone, but, depending on just who you are, watch out for potential treachery in her advice. Persuasive as anything; she’ll manipulate someone into thinking her interjection was all their own idea. Since she’s been around for so long, she has blackmail on practically everyone, and you bet your barks she won’t hesitate to use it to get her way.
Pretty much above the law. Fears no one, perhaps because she has nothing to lose. Has no issue telling anyone off and will do so in the most dramatic and public way possible. Yet felicific and downplays a lot. Insouciant; maybe her lightheartedness goes too far, but, hey, why waste time on tears? She lives another fifty years. Totally debonair about everything in her past, including her son’s death. She knows that grief comes with the territory; dogs who can’t get past their losses really irritate her, and she has no pity for them. Rather, she’ll tell all the woe-is-me’s, right to their face, to get off their sorry tails and make their existence worthwhile.
Flirts with Blizzard. Non-stop. And he can’t escape her because she’s always in his den to be tended to by Heather. She’d do the same with Spire if it weren’t for the way he just shuts down. But, no, the old deflated fart’s no fun.
Oh, hO, HO, when it comes to the kids, The Vine is a whole ‘nother creature. She absolutely loves them all, especially her most recent great-grandpups. She’s always spinning up new yarns to regale them with. Best of all, she’s the biggest enabler of illegal teenage jaunts. She covers for them for no cost other than the occasional visit- and she is a pro at what she does.
And if they’re hesitant about going through with something that doesn’t exactly align with pack law?
She’ll give them a hearty slap and egg ‘em on with her classic motivational speech:
“Do it for The Vine.”
Breed: Solid Border Collie
Description: 19” tall. For how rough of condition the rest of her is in, her coat has faired the years pretty well- it’s still nicely uniform in thickness and kept relatively clean. Color patches -just head and hindquarters- are a luscious chocolatey maroon. Bow legged in both ends. Dysplasia of practically everything, but has that stopped her yet? Nicely fluff-framed head true to her breed, but age’s whitening has widened her blaze significantly. Brown eyes that are getting increasingly milky, thanks to cataracts. Additionally, her right eye is lazy- when she focuses on something new, it takes a while to follow the left, and often never gets there. Lots of chipped, overgrown, and outright missing toenails and teeth.
View attachment 2251348
History:
So she obviously started out with humans, because, last time I checked, the wilds ain’t producing purebreds. Does she remember how it went? Probably. Does she care? Not one bit. Is it at all relevant to current life? Highly unlikely. Do I need to write it out? HECK NAW.
When her son was born, she was determined to name him Avocado.
But no one would use his given name, so, she, like any good law-abiding citizen, waltzed up to the current Alpha with her crotch spawn dangling from her jaws, and was like, “Tell me what you’d call this thing, because apparently Avocado isn’t socially acceptable.”
Ledge must’ve been having frosty thoughts, but Ice it was.
To be honest, Vine never was completely sure who Ice’s father was. Back in the old days, they did love right. You stole and broke hearts in a rapid succession similar to how a squirrel treats nuts. None of this forever nonsense that the kids of today swear by.
Besides, Ice’s coat was only a few shades off of hers and otherwise followed her phenotype to a near T, so process of elimination wasn’t going to be of any help. Also, by the time he was born, she was no longer on good terms with either of the two likeliest sires, so digging into that wouldn’t reap anything but an ugly mess.
But the nosy little rat of hers had to look around the pack and then want to know why other pups had two parents to his ostentatious one.
“Fathers are fickle things. You got one today, you don’t got one tomorrow. Then you’ll have a new one the day after that. Don’t sweat it, kid.”
It seemed he didn’t.
Especially when he grew up and loved in a similar fashion to his mother.
Vine was always keenly aware that she’d made this monster but was never the least bit remorseful for it. She knew she got looks, especially from Ice’s mates when she never once condemned him for his wandering affections, but she never broke her insolent stride.
And the grandchildren. Pups were eh, but grandpups were so much better. For one, it’s not your fault if they turn out rotten.
Oh, she certainly had a blast giving them the time of their lives- and all the better if their happiness came at the expense of the adults’ sanity.
Then, slowly, Apollo, Hestia, and Heather’s entire generation became Vine’s grandpups.
And then the generation after them.
And so on.

Sometime during all of this, Ice died.
What did Vine have to say for him?
Something, indeed, at his funeral, and I quote, “Nice kid, that Av—Ice, but good riddance.”

She’s not quite sure when she started referring to herself in the third person and tacking on an article. One day, she decided that she wanted to be larger than life and that’s how she achieved it. Overhearing “The Vine---” in a conversation gives her ego the biggest thrill, and to deny her of it is a cruel thing indeed.

Last generation’s grandchildren will come up to her and ask, “Vine, you’re not still up to your old antics, are you?”
She’ll shoot down their suspicions with a dismissive wave of the paw. “Oh, no, child, I’m much too old for any mischief.”
But she hasn’t changed.
Not one bit.

Calls her dead son Avocado when no one’s looking.

Pack: Lupus
Mate: tO aLl tHe dOgS I hAvE LoVEd BEfORE
Offspring: Ice (DEAD)
Parents: can you even imagine how dead these are
Siblings: even if they’re domestics, they couldn’t outlive her
Song Associated: Happy Days Theme
Other: I didn’t know how desperately I needed a pack grandma until I did.
Username: HeavensHens88
a queen did it for the vine
 
Name: (The) Vine
Age: 167 moons
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Female
Personality: She knows what she’s got left is far left than what she started it, so she’s living it up.
Companionly to everyone who welcomes it, but standoffish to those who don’t. Incisive, forthright, and blunt; doesn’t beat around the bush about anything, whether it be a decision, declaration, or defamation. She’ll listen to anyone, but, depending on just who you are, watch out for potential treachery in her advice. Persuasive as anything; she’ll manipulate someone into thinking her interjection was all their own idea. Since she’s been around for so long, she has blackmail on practically everyone, and you bet your barks she won’t hesitate to use it to get her way.
Pretty much above the law. Fears no one, perhaps because she has nothing to lose. Has no issue telling anyone off and will do so in the most dramatic and public way possible. Yet felicific and downplays a lot. Insouciant; maybe her lightheartedness goes too far, but, hey, why waste time on tears? She lives another fifty years. Totally debonair about everything in her past, including her son’s death. She knows that grief comes with the territory; dogs who can’t get past their losses really irritate her, and she has no pity for them. Rather, she’ll tell all the woe-is-me’s, right to their face, to get off their sorry tails and make their existence worthwhile.
Flirts with Blizzard. Non-stop. And he can’t escape her because she’s always in his den to be tended to by Heather. She’d do the same with Spire if it weren’t for the way he just shuts down. But, no, the old deflated fart’s no fun.
Oh, hO, HO, when it comes to the kids, The Vine is a whole ‘nother creature. She absolutely loves them all, especially her most recent great-grandpups. She’s always spinning up new yarns to regale them with. Best of all, she’s the biggest enabler of illegal teenage jaunts. She covers for them for no cost other than the occasional visit- and she is a pro at what she does.
And if they’re hesitant about going through with something that doesn’t exactly align with pack law?
She’ll give them a hearty slap and egg ‘em on with her classic motivational speech:
“Do it for The Vine.”
Breed: Solid Border Collie
Description: 19” tall. For how rough of condition the rest of her is in, her coat has faired the years pretty well- it’s still nicely uniform in thickness and kept relatively clean. Color patches -just head and hindquarters- are a luscious chocolatey maroon. Bow legged in both ends. Dysplasia of practically everything, but has that stopped her yet? Nicely fluff-framed head true to her breed, but age’s whitening has widened her blaze significantly. Brown eyes that are getting increasingly milky, thanks to cataracts. Additionally, her right eye is lazy- when she focuses on something new, it takes a while to follow the left, and often never gets there. Lots of chipped, overgrown, and outright missing toenails and teeth.
View attachment 2251348
History:
So she obviously started out with humans, because, last time I checked, the wilds ain’t producing purebreds. Does she remember how it went? Probably. Does she care? Not one bit. Is it at all relevant to current life? Highly unlikely. Do I need to write it out? HECK NAW.
When her son was born, she was determined to name him Avocado.
But no one would use his given name, so, she, like any good law-abiding citizen, waltzed up to the current Alpha with her crotch spawn dangling from her jaws, and was like, “Tell me what you’d call this thing, because apparently Avocado isn’t socially acceptable.”
Ledge must’ve been having frosty thoughts, but Ice it was.
To be honest, Vine never was completely sure who Ice’s father was. Back in the old days, they did love right. You stole and broke hearts in a rapid succession similar to how a squirrel treats nuts. None of this forever nonsense that the kids of today swear by.
Besides, Ice’s coat was only a few shades off of hers and otherwise followed her phenotype to a near T, so process of elimination wasn’t going to be of any help. Also, by the time he was born, she was no longer on good terms with either of the two likeliest sires, so digging into that wouldn’t reap anything but an ugly mess.
But the nosy little rat of hers had to look around the pack and then want to know why other pups had two parents to his ostentatious one.
“Fathers are fickle things. You got one today, you don’t got one tomorrow. Then you’ll have a new one the day after that. Don’t sweat it, kid.”
It seemed he didn’t.
Especially when he grew up and loved in a similar fashion to his mother.
Vine was always keenly aware that she’d made this monster but was never the least bit remorseful for it. She knew she got looks, especially from Ice’s mates when she never once condemned him for his wandering affections, but she never broke her insolent stride.
And the grandchildren. Pups were eh, but grandpups were so much better. For one, it’s not your fault if they turn out rotten.
Oh, she certainly had a blast giving them the time of their lives- and all the better if their happiness came at the expense of the adults’ sanity.
Then, slowly, Apollo, Hestia, and Heather’s entire generation became Vine’s grandpups.
And then the generation after them.
And so on.

Sometime during all of this, Ice died.
What did Vine have to say for him?
Something, indeed, at his funeral, and I quote, “Nice kid, that Av—Ice, but good riddance.”

She’s not quite sure when she started referring to herself in the third person and tacking on an article. One day, she decided that she wanted to be larger than life and that’s how she achieved it. Overhearing “The Vine---” in a conversation gives her ego the biggest thrill, and to deny her of it is a cruel thing indeed.

Last generation’s grandchildren will come up to her and ask, “Vine, you’re not still up to your old antics, are you?”
She’ll shoot down their suspicions with a dismissive wave of the paw. “Oh, no, child, I’m much too old for any mischief.”
But she hasn’t changed.
Not one bit.

Calls her dead son Avocado when no one’s looking.

Pack: Lupus
Mate: tO aLl tHe dOgS I hAvE LoVEd BEfORE
Offspring: Ice (DEAD)
Parents: can you even imagine how dead these are
Siblings: even if they’re domestics, they couldn’t outlive her
Song Associated: Happy Days Theme
Other: I didn’t know how desperately I needed a pack grandma until I did.
Username: HeavensHens88
ajskakakdkajs I cannot express my love for this dog oh my word
 
Name: (The) Vine
Age: 167 moons
Rank: Hunter
Gender: Female
Personality: She knows what she’s got left is far left than what she started it, so she’s living it up.
Companionly to everyone who welcomes it, but standoffish to those who don’t. Incisive, forthright, and blunt; doesn’t beat around the bush about anything, whether it be a decision, declaration, or defamation. She’ll listen to anyone, but, depending on just who you are, watch out for potential treachery in her advice. Persuasive as anything; she’ll manipulate someone into thinking her interjection was all their own idea. Since she’s been around for so long, she has blackmail on practically everyone, and you bet your barks she won’t hesitate to use it to get her way.
Pretty much above the law. Fears no one, perhaps because she has nothing to lose. Has no issue telling anyone off and will do so in the most dramatic and public way possible. Yet felicific and downplays a lot. Insouciant; maybe her lightheartedness goes too far, but, hey, why waste time on tears? She lives another fifty years. Totally debonair about everything in her past, including her son’s death. She knows that grief comes with the territory; dogs who can’t get past their losses really irritate her, and she has no pity for them. Rather, she’ll tell all the woe-is-me’s, right to their face, to get off their sorry tails and make their existence worthwhile.
Flirts with Blizzard. Non-stop. And he can’t escape her because she’s always in his den to be tended to by Heather. She’d do the same with Spire if it weren’t for the way he just shuts down. But, no, the old deflated fart’s no fun.
Oh, hO, HO, when it comes to the kids, The Vine is a whole ‘nother creature. She absolutely loves them all, especially her most recent great-grandpups. She’s always spinning up new yarns to regale them with. Best of all, she’s the biggest enabler of illegal teenage jaunts. She covers for them for no cost other than the occasional visit- and she is a pro at what she does.
And if they’re hesitant about going through with something that doesn’t exactly align with pack law?
She’ll give them a hearty slap and egg ‘em on with her classic motivational speech:
“Do it for The Vine.”
Breed: Solid Border Collie
Description: 19” tall. For how rough of condition the rest of her is in, her coat has faired the years pretty well- it’s still nicely uniform in thickness and kept relatively clean. Color patches -just head and hindquarters- are a luscious chocolatey maroon. Bow legged in both ends. Dysplasia of practically everything, but has that stopped her yet? Nicely fluff-framed head true to her breed, but age’s whitening has widened her blaze significantly. Brown eyes that are getting increasingly milky, thanks to cataracts. Additionally, her right eye is lazy- when she focuses on something new, it takes a while to follow the left, and often never gets there. Lots of chipped, overgrown, and outright missing toenails and teeth.
View attachment 2251348
History:
So she obviously started out with humans, because, last time I checked, the wilds ain’t producing purebreds. Does she remember how it went? Probably. Does she care? Not one bit. Is it at all relevant to current life? Highly unlikely. Do I need to write it out? HECK NAW.
When her son was born, she was determined to name him Avocado.
But no one would use his given name, so, she, like any good law-abiding citizen, waltzed up to the current Alpha with her crotch spawn dangling from her jaws, and was like, “Tell me what you’d call this thing, because apparently Avocado isn’t socially acceptable.”
Ledge must’ve been having frosty thoughts, but Ice it was.
To be honest, Vine never was completely sure who Ice’s father was. Back in the old days, they did love right. You stole and broke hearts in a rapid succession similar to how a squirrel treats nuts. None of this forever nonsense that the kids of today swear by.
Besides, Ice’s coat was only a few shades off of hers and otherwise followed her phenotype to a near T, so process of elimination wasn’t going to be of any help. Also, by the time he was born, she was no longer on good terms with either of the two likeliest sires, so digging into that wouldn’t reap anything but an ugly mess.
But the nosy little rat of hers had to look around the pack and then want to know why other pups had two parents to his ostentatious one.
“Fathers are fickle things. You got one today, you don’t got one tomorrow. Then you’ll have a new one the day after that. Don’t sweat it, kid.”
It seemed he didn’t.
Especially when he grew up and loved in a similar fashion to his mother.
Vine was always keenly aware that she’d made this monster but was never the least bit remorseful for it. She knew she got looks, especially from Ice’s mates when she never once condemned him for his wandering affections, but she never broke her insolent stride.
And the grandchildren. Pups were eh, but grandpups were so much better. For one, it’s not your fault if they turn out rotten.
Oh, she certainly had a blast giving them the time of their lives- and all the better if their happiness came at the expense of the adults’ sanity.
Then, slowly, Apollo, Hestia, and Heather’s entire generation became Vine’s grandpups.
And then the generation after them.
And so on.

Sometime during all of this, Ice died.
What did Vine have to say for him?
Something, indeed, at his funeral, and I quote, “Nice kid, that Av—Ice, but good riddance.”

She’s not quite sure when she started referring to herself in the third person and tacking on an article. One day, she decided that she wanted to be larger than life and that’s how she achieved it. Overhearing “The Vine---” in a conversation gives her ego the biggest thrill, and to deny her of it is a cruel thing indeed.

Last generation’s grandchildren will come up to her and ask, “Vine, you’re not still up to your old antics, are you?”
She’ll shoot down their suspicions with a dismissive wave of the paw. “Oh, no, child, I’m much too old for any mischief.”
But she hasn’t changed.
Not one bit.

Calls her dead son Avocado when no one’s looking.

Pack: Lupus
Mate: tO aLl tHe dOgS I hAvE LoVEd BEfORE
Offspring: Ice (DEAD)
Parents: can you even imagine how dead these are
Siblings: even if they’re domestics, they couldn’t outlive her
Song Associated: Happy Days Theme
Other: I didn’t know how desperately I needed a pack grandma until I did.
Username: HeavensHens88
THE VINE
 
(foxes outside of territory)
Russet popped up from the grass like a sudden burst of flames. Cement was beside him, as usual, a comforting presence. He stood stock still, ears turning, drawing a breath of air, checking for potential threats that could be around them, dogs, and... well those were probably the only potential threats. He nipped Cement’s ear. “Wake up, Concrete,” he said lightly. (@RoostersAreAwesome)
 

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