Post by stolz on Jun 11, 2007 22:34:00 GMT -5
Name: Stolz
Gender: Male
Age: about four years
Description: Tall, intimidating; an enemy. That's usually the impression that wolves get when they first lay eyes on him. Not that he really was that tall; he only stood a mere inch over the usual. It was just the way he carried himself--Head high, shoulders squared, legs straght and tail proudly up. Pride. It was the only constant thing in his life, and he intended to keep it that way. It shone in his eyes; a burning amber, willing any wolf that came near to lower their heads before him. Just because if that expression, they usually did. The grey fur along his back was usually not raised, though at any sign of a fight or a foe it spiked up easily. He was indeed handsome, but only in a beat up once too many times way. His grey and white fur alternated, and he had patterns of darker fur across his head and back. Scars ran over his pelt, but he always kept clean. No blood was ever on his pelt save right after a battle--he had no intention to look like a weakling or a killer.
History: No horros graced his past, no particular joyous memories either. He was just--there. His parents had either died or abandoned him at an early age, not that he minded. He had never knew them, and therefore felt no connection to them. Of course, he saw this to his advantage: Links were weaknesses, besides those of a loyal pack wolf standing behind. He had once been leader of a fine pack--or what he wanted to see as a pack. As a young wolf, he led a small band of others, they stayed together to hunt, and had no family to go back to. He often referred to them as 'his old pack' but he never mentioned they had all left him when they could fend for themselves. A temporary pack, well! He had vowed to show them better, but naturally was far to self-confident. Most of the scars, including the still-pink one that ran straight across his left cheek and up to his ear, where it had torn, had come from this. He had tracked down every wolf, and one by one challenged him. It was foolish, for though he had taken care fo them, for the most part all of them were far older then he. Fight after fight, defeat after defeat, his pride only grew. Indeed, because of his most obvious attribute, he had been christened 'Stolz' by a forgein wolf in his old pack. A wolf, who later, had nearly killed him with the others. Now, he wandered alone, but forever thinking of another pack--a pack that would be loyal, that he, and he alone, could lead. Every day, he dreamed of this group of fearless wolves, then finally, he saw a chance to take a pack for himself.
(Don't worry, this will work it's way into the plot, I promise!! Actually, I'll log on as Arien later tonight and make a current plot, one besides the history one, which will probably take awhile to find it's place anyhow...)
Family: Families are weak links. His parents were gone, and any siblings he had had long since disapeared. He does not fear or think for them; he needs his thoughts for him--and his furture pack.
Picture: Errr.. I'll find one. Eventually. Maybe... Eh.
Gender: Male
Age: about four years
Description: Tall, intimidating; an enemy. That's usually the impression that wolves get when they first lay eyes on him. Not that he really was that tall; he only stood a mere inch over the usual. It was just the way he carried himself--Head high, shoulders squared, legs straght and tail proudly up. Pride. It was the only constant thing in his life, and he intended to keep it that way. It shone in his eyes; a burning amber, willing any wolf that came near to lower their heads before him. Just because if that expression, they usually did. The grey fur along his back was usually not raised, though at any sign of a fight or a foe it spiked up easily. He was indeed handsome, but only in a beat up once too many times way. His grey and white fur alternated, and he had patterns of darker fur across his head and back. Scars ran over his pelt, but he always kept clean. No blood was ever on his pelt save right after a battle--he had no intention to look like a weakling or a killer.
History: No horros graced his past, no particular joyous memories either. He was just--there. His parents had either died or abandoned him at an early age, not that he minded. He had never knew them, and therefore felt no connection to them. Of course, he saw this to his advantage: Links were weaknesses, besides those of a loyal pack wolf standing behind. He had once been leader of a fine pack--or what he wanted to see as a pack. As a young wolf, he led a small band of others, they stayed together to hunt, and had no family to go back to. He often referred to them as 'his old pack' but he never mentioned they had all left him when they could fend for themselves. A temporary pack, well! He had vowed to show them better, but naturally was far to self-confident. Most of the scars, including the still-pink one that ran straight across his left cheek and up to his ear, where it had torn, had come from this. He had tracked down every wolf, and one by one challenged him. It was foolish, for though he had taken care fo them, for the most part all of them were far older then he. Fight after fight, defeat after defeat, his pride only grew. Indeed, because of his most obvious attribute, he had been christened 'Stolz' by a forgein wolf in his old pack. A wolf, who later, had nearly killed him with the others. Now, he wandered alone, but forever thinking of another pack--a pack that would be loyal, that he, and he alone, could lead. Every day, he dreamed of this group of fearless wolves, then finally, he saw a chance to take a pack for himself.
(Don't worry, this will work it's way into the plot, I promise!! Actually, I'll log on as Arien later tonight and make a current plot, one besides the history one, which will probably take awhile to find it's place anyhow...)
Family: Families are weak links. His parents were gone, and any siblings he had had long since disapeared. He does not fear or think for them; he needs his thoughts for him--and his furture pack.
Picture: Errr.. I'll find one. Eventually. Maybe... Eh.