Waya, Wolf-dog « Result #1 on Jun 10, 2008, 6:38pm »
About You- Nickname: Waya Experience in Roleplay:Played for about a year and a half on Dragonriders of Kreysthahl.
About your Character- Name: Waya Gender: Female Age: 1.5 years Blood: Wolfdog Breed: Siberian Husky/Arctic Wolf
Fur color: Mostly black with white along her underside and around her muzzle. She has a couple patches of wolf-brown oner back and head. Her tail is black with an uneven grey stripe aound the middle. Eye color: Blue Other: Thin scar along left side of her jaw. Body shaped like a wolf, but a bit thicker and has a curled tail.
Personality: (Six sentences minimum) At first Waya seems very shy-hardly talks, walks with her head down, ect.-and she takes a while to warm up to others. But once she knows you well and likes you enough, she becomes nearly the exact opposite. Waya becomes very playfull-which can become very iritating at times. She loves to poke your buttons but Waya usually knows when enough is enough. She also likes to wait around corners and jump out at her friends. If she jumps out and startles the wrong dog she becomes very embarassed and goes back to being quiet for the rest of the day. Waya has an ability to navigate large crowds(human or animal) without bumping into others, and never seems to notice. She thinks of herself as kinda clumsy, as the only times she ever really pays attention to her path of travel when she runs into somthing first.
History: (Two Paragraphs minimum) Her mother was pure wolf and part of a large pack deep in the Canadian wilderness. Before Waya was born her mother was a well-loved part of the pack. Then the humans came. Three wolves were taken, including Waya's mom. They were brought to a human place and forced to work hauling sleds. Waya's mom was bred with one of her owner's Huskies. A few days later she escaped. When she returned to her pack, the others seemed unhappy. After Waya and her two brothers were born, the pack became angry and wanted to get rid of the pups. The disliked all dogs and thought of them as slaves to the humans. Waya's mom was just able to convince the alphas to let them live.
As Waya and the others grew, they learned to hunt and grew as normal wolf pups should. During Waya's first big hunt, her mother and the alpha female were struck by the flailing hooves of their prey-a cow moose. They both died instantly. As the alpha male stood over his fallen mate, he snapped. He began insulting the three pups and blamed them for his mate's death. He ordered the pack to kill them. Waya mannaged to get away with a long cut on her lower jaw and a few minor cuts and bruises. Her brothers, however, weren't so lucky. The youngest was killed first, then her other brother died trying to fight them off.
Waya ran until her legs buckled under her and she lay, panting, on the bank of a river. After gaining her strength back, Waya began to follow the river. Her journy took her to a human town, the same one her mother had been dragged off to by the humans. Slowly, she learned how to survive on the streets and her puppyhood receded into the farther reaches of her memory.
Roleplaying Sample: (This will be judged harshly. Please do your best. Three paragraphs minimum. (30 sentences) Pain, like fire, spread through Waya's limbs and lungs as she ran for her life. The howls of the pack followed her. She ran over fields and through dense woods until she could run no more. She slowed to a trot, and then a walk. Finaly, her legs gave out under her and she fell in a heap of fur. She panted heavily and her tounge rolled out of her mouth and onto the ground. She lay there for a while until she passed out from exhaustion. Waya lie there, nearly uncouncious for most of the day. She awoke, slowly rasing her eyelids to look at something cold that was lapping at her nose and making it hard to breathe. She raised her head carefully and looked around, she was lying almost halfway in a small river. Waya perked her ears and listened for a moment, making sure she was safe. When she was satisfied that there was nobody around, Waya drank deeply. As she stood up, her legs buckled under her again and she waited a moment before trying to sit up.
Waya sat back on her rear and checked out her suroundings. There was the river, and lots of pine trees. The breeze that blew was week, but Waya still shivered. Once she was feeling a bit better, Waya stood up very slowly and stretched her overworked muscles. She knew that she couldn't turn around and go back, her pack would kill her, so she bagan to follow the river. It was small for a river, but it provided a constant source of water. After having been traveling for what seemed like a few hours, Waya's stomach grumbled. She began to sniff around for prey, but this area was overhunted and there was no live prey near-by that she could smell, but there was something that she had never scented before. It was strange and it awakened a new instinct in Waya. It was something to fear, but she found herself drawn by it.
Waya followed the scent and was led to a strange place. There were many dogs here, she even scented wolves and half-breeds like herself, but the scent that permeated the very air she breathed and that covered everything-including most of the dogs-was that which brought her there. Waya was suddenly very lost. The strange scent broke off into many slightly different trails that went every way. Waya wandered through streets and alleys, avoiding other dogs, until she came upon a creature she had never seen before. It stood on two legs and it's face was flat with two dark eyes and a lump of skin she guessed was a nose. It had no fur and its paws were warped. It turned in her direction and yelled something at her. Waya froze, staring at this thing. It started walking toward her, yelling. Waya bolted in the oposite direction and down a alley where she sat panting. What was that thing?
Killers in the Shadows (change request) « Result #6 on Jun 22, 2006, 6:23pm »
K I L L E R S . I N . T H E . S H A D O W S
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We have requested you not to direct link our buttons. You may be an old affiliate from months ago, and we may not have requested the forbidden hot-linking then, and so our apologies are issued. However, now we need to spare some of our bandwidth -- we would appreciate it if you do not direct link our buttons any longer. If you fail to change this, we will remove your from our affiliates list within the next week.
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Plot PLOT: On the Emerald Isle, a wolf pack did live; but a single one for the entire Isle to bear. Its numbers were great, it members strong, and its leader fearless. Bears to cougars, the pack hunted them all, until not one was existent on the Isle anymore. Food became scarcer and scarcer as the pack continued to breed and hunt. The amount of wolves rose to an alarming rate as more and more wolves grew old enough to find mates. On the first night of winter, the wolves lay around a large rock in the middle of the Isle. Suddenly, the temperate fell. All the wolves rose in panic as the younger pups froze almost instantly. Their cry became low and within seconds they were still, their bodies stiff and frozen. The mothers cried but their tears froze painfully to their faces forcing them to stop their mourn. The wolves were whimpering and darting around in panic when the temperature lost its icy grip. Confusion echoed through out the pack as finally howls of grief rose from the mothers of the pups. No one could sleep anymore, fear consumed them all. The next night was the same as before but this time the cold seemed to have more bite in it. The mothers stayed curled tightly around the remaining pups though only a few lived. Rumors of all there deaths echoed through the pack lands as each night, the same processes was repeated. Soon, the wolves figured out how to keep each other warm and did so during the nights. Eventually, the entire pack slept as one and the deaths were no more.
Finally, after many months, Spring appeared. All wolves were relived until night fall again came. The earth rumbled and broke apart, sending many wolves crashing to their deaths. The wolves were again, panicked and confused. Soon, they learned to dodge the splits by gathering on large rocks that would not fall through when the earth broke apart.
Again, the season changed to Summer but no wolf was happy. The first night again, no one slept and suddenly a small spark appeared out of no where. It danced and grew until it consumed the wolves in a blazing inferno. Few escaped and their only defense was to run. Not a wolf slept that summer and many either burned or died from exhaustion.
At last, the final season of the year arrived, Fall. The pack lands had moved north and now rested upon the cliffs where they were away from the cold ground, splitting earth and flaming dry land. They all thought they were safe but the feeling didn’t last long. On the first night, a small breeze ruffled their pelts and they welcomed it at first; But soon the breeze picked up speed and wolves were flung from the cliffs; their bodies lifted into the air and thrown high over the deathly rock only to fall to their deaths just moments after. This, above all other seasons, killed more wolves than any. Even when the pack fled to the woods the wind followed; slamming the wolves against trees and breaking their backs, throwing them high into the air so they fell and snapped their necks.
At last, Winter came again and all expected to be frozen that night but it never came. The night went by without a single death and every night after that.
Only 6 wolves remained out of the 42 that originally called the pack their home. The elements had killed many and so many wolves were emotionally scared. Now, 22 years later it is happening again. The same Isle in which the first dawned, a new wolf pack has risen but the Elements have other plans for them. Winter is here and it has struck its furry on the pack, can you survive the legend, or will you die along with the tortured souls in which the elements have claimed? No matter what the path you choose, the outcome will be the same. Your fate has already been written…
Re: Move aside, let the devil sit on his throne. « Result #8 on Jun 10, 2006, 3:31am »
Jewel, in all her beauty and anger, wondered the streets alone, for once in her young life. The she wolf dog trotted past the houses, past the humans, bored in her own mind while Master was at the place that smelt of bitches. Her slender body slinked along the snow, watching the humans strap their sled slaves to random machines. One of them turned to her and called her over. Strange, the creature knew her name. The female ignored him, not even taking notice of the pathetic creature. Only Master could call her into submission. Bugger any of the other idiots.
Jewel sighed and sat down to watch the dogs and humans rush around. What silliness, over a pretty little stone that any other dog would consider a excelent toilet. She wondered why the humans got excited about the ugly little rock, often disowning there own pack members because of it. They would exchange the rock for different dogs, or other uninteresting things. Jeez, Jewel thanked the fack that the only trhing that mutts like her had to worry about is mateing, eating, and running with the sled. Even if it was a dangerous place/life, full of potenially psycotic humans ready to beat the hell out of you, it was better then being excited by a pretty stone...
Funny, the way things turned out. She had a harsher life then the humans, but strangely, Jewel prefered it rather then to be erosed by random useless objects. That, in her mind, was just plain pathetic.
A lone wolf caught her eye when he growled at a human. Jewel sblack personed and decided to wonder over, just to amuse herself until Master was finished in the place full of females. Her pelt shimmered in the sunlight, silver rippling down her midnight black underfur( if that whats you could call it.) The strange coloration in her fur was wither caused by her huskey heritage, or the nasty scars that tatter her skin, ruining the stealth like beauty. But that didn't matter, what did was the cheeky grin that was plastered across her face.
The neon coloration of the varg’s eyes was mainly unexplainable. Her equally colored pelt remained as silvery-gold colored as ever, and even more evil. The darkening horizon was remarkable and yet somewhat sickening. It was a dark and startling blood red. It almost seemed to seep down and fall on her, but that was but her sickest fantasy. For the sky to fall on her, and for her to cause the apocalypse. Her fur was unfathomed by the brittle wind that sometimes whipped into her skin, and burnt her as though it were whip lash. But it was just the cold. She curled her rims into a steady and dirty snarl. She was in a fowl mood.
She remembered all the bitches’ in her life, begging for there lives to be stolen for her. A few times she granted this wish, but only if they were pathetic enough. An evil snarl erupted from her maw as her jowels snapped at imaginary heels. How she missed her surrogate mother, Threnody. And how that god damned bbastard had pinned her under his body and stolen her life! Curse him! Curse him!. The fire. Her death. It was so terrible. She refused to remember it. The whole thing was too terrible.
Scythe was stopped in her rant by one, amazingly blunt object. Sitting at her feet, was a remarkable flower. Threnody's favorite in the world. She froze, and stared at it for what seemed forever. She vowed to give to whomever he fell in love with, right before she killed them. The blackness of it, held her promise and the petals held her hatred. A black rose, sat under a cage on thorns. She didn’t blame it. For hiding. She had bitten himself so hard, when she had snarled that it was now bleeding. A drop of blood fell in the center of the rose. It moved, it’s crimson color manipulating her in so many ways.
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