Post by scythe on May 25, 2006 7:37:56 GMT -5
Name: The name I go by online is Death...it was given to me a while back because of a charrie I rped---Wolf
Age: 16
Email: viper1057@aol.com
How long have you wolf role played: about 8-9 years now
Your Character
Name: Scythe
Age: About 2 1/2 years
Species: We do not know
Gender: Female
Family (1 paragraphs):
Born to Evershade Black Wing and Corona WindFlare, Scythe was the smallest of her litter-mates. Her siblings’ names were Coronus, Lacuna, Red Fury, and Sayago. Scythe has no living family. This is because she was born into the captivity of a human village and when she was only a month old, a fire spread around the village. Everyone in her family died except for her and her eldest brother, Sayago. A couple of weeks later, a lynx killed Sayago.
Personality (2 paragraphs):
Scythe is very...to herself. She is stubborn and hardheaded. She doesn't like being around others much but is willing to give it a try. When it comes to fighting, she fears nothing. Some call her a sociopath. Some say she’s strange. And still others say she evil.
But aside from that, Scythe can be very sweet. She loves pups and finds playing with them is much better then being alone. She once found love but the brute took a different mate, having led her on and she's never opened up to anyone like that since.
Detailed Description (1 paragraph) (include hobbies, fears and dislikes):
Scythe is an abnormally large, grey and tan wolf. She has one neon yellow eye that glints fiercely whenever she is angered. A multitude of scars lie etched in her pelt and one scar lies across her right eye making her blind on that side; another tracing her collar bone. The scar across her eye is a reminder of a certain dead lynx.
History:
Born in a human village, Scythe was very weak and scrawny at birth. She was always picked on by her siblings and her mother didn't like the fact that she was so puny. The only sibling that actually loved her was her eldest brother Sayago (Say-ah-go). Soon enough though, she began to grow into a large pup, larger then her brothers and sisters. At a month of age, a fire caught in one of the houses and spread quickly, killing everyone in her family except for her and her eldest brother, Sayago. A couple of weeks later, a lynx killed Sayago.
Forced to survive on her own, she tried to hunt and fend for herself, but could not. One day, she was starved and close to death as she crawled into a human area. Unfortunately the humans here were vindictive and beat her with a bull whip. This is how she got most of her scars. As soon as she was strong enough, about a month and several whips later, she escaped.
A couple of months later, Scythe stood about two and a half feet tall. Her scars still throb with a sharp pain when she overexerted herself. At six months old, she had taught herself how to hunt even the craftiest of animals, though she was still not big enough to bring down a deer on her own. She now began to teach herself how to fight. She had not yet forgotten about what that lynx had done to her brother.
The first thing Scythe did to train herself was run. She ran whenever she could, pushing her body to its limits, rarely stopping when her body told her it needed to rest. One day, she was running and an old and wise wolf stopped her and asked her why she always ran so much. Scythe hesitated before telling the old one her reasons but the elder wolf promised that she was a loner and had no one else to tell her secret. Upon hearing Scythe’s reasoning, she smiled down upon the pup. ‘A good reason you have there,’ she said. ‘Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not worthy of being in their pack or being their friend. If you, as a pup, barely nine months of age, understand what it takes to fight and have your revenge better then wolves much older then yourself, you are most certainly worthy of any pack. When you get ready to broaden your mind, Scythe, come find me. Ask around. My name is Threnody.’ Scythe smiled and nodded and took off running once more. After a while, Scythe’s endurance began to lengthen out. It took a month and a half but Scythe could run at about 30 mph for over six hours.
The next thing she did was train her mind, getting it ready for whatever Threnody would teach her. She would find a large forest or something of the sorts and stand in the very middle, close her eyes and she would listen. She would listen to the birds and the foxes, and all the other animals. And she would stand there until she became subjective to every single sound in the forest. After a few hours or so of listening, Scythe would follow her own scent out of the forest. Three months later, the day Scythe had been waiting for finally came. Rain poured down in a torrent of wet stings. She padded into the forest, the rain washing away all the scents. She reached the middle and stood there in the freezing cold, the winds somehow making it through the dense forest, whipping at her soaked pelt, making her even colder. She closed her eyes and listened, concentrating on picking up every sound covered by the rain. After an hour, she could hear, however faintly, the scratching of a squirrel in its nest, getting ready to eat a nut, the soft yips of a mother fox’s kits, and every sound imaginable. Following these ‘voices’ she kept her eyes tightly shut and picked her way through the forest, not once taking even the slightest peek. After four hours, Scythe emerged from the forest onto the water soaked plain. She did not smile, for her smiles had long since been forgotten, and still keeping her eyes closed as she made her way to a hill she knew quite well and padded to its crest. A boulder sat atop the hill and she approached it, bumped it with her nose just to make sure she was in the right spot and leapt upon it. And there the pup named Scythe sat. A three foot tall, ten month old pup that lifted her pretty silvren crania and howled her first song. The howl was deep and sorrow-filled, anger coursed through the tune as well. Miles away, Threnody perked her ears up and listened to a howl. Somehow she knew it was Scythe and said to her self and the heavens: ‘A wolf her age should not be so sad or angry. She should be living the way other pups do, she should be carefree and joyous.’ But never again would Scythe live joyously.
A week or so later, Scythe went out in search of Threnody. She quickly made her way to where she first met Threnody, hoping she might be around here, but she wasn’t, so Scythe began to ask around, just as Threnody had told her to four and a half months ago. Soon enough, Scythe found Threnody resting in a deserted cave that still reeked of a bear. Threnody, who’d been sleeping opened an eye and looked at her. A smile coursed over the elder’s maw. “Hello there, Scythe. Are you ready to broaden your mind?” Scythe didn’t say anything, just nodded. Threnody smiled again. “Good, we’ll start right away then. Right now, infact. You’re first lesson is to go out and bring me a fox, without killing it.” Scythe looked at her like she was crazy, but went out and tried to catch a live fox.
She tried, unsuccessfully, for three days. Every time she caught one, she’d accidentally kill it. Scythe sat near a fox’s den one day thinking how she could catch it without harming it. Finally, she realized that she had to sneak up on it, being as quiet as a mouse. Scythe got up from her position and padded over to a dense bush near the fox’s den. There she sat; waiting for at least 45 min. until the fox finally began to creep out of its den. Scythe restrained her self from moving right away, lest she scare it back into its home. As the fox came out, Scythe analyzed how far away from the den she would need to let it get. Suddenly, darted out of the den, and raced towards the fox, which made a mad scamper for its den. Scythe bent her head down as she ran and just as the fox came to his den she snatched him up in her mouth, her teeth not hurting him. She returned to Threnody and went to the back of the cave and set the fox down in a corner, where it quivered in fear. Pleased, Threnody smiled and congratulated Scythe for figuring it out. Scythe just nodded and said thank you, not laughing or smiling. Threnody agreed to teach Scythe every thing she herself knew.
Scythe’s lessons continued for six months, and in time, she knew everything there was to know about animals, the land, life, etc. Soon enough, Scythe began to think of Threnody as a mother; a mother who didn’t make fun of her, yell at her, or look down on her. Scythe was vaguely happy. Until fate decided that Scythe should not even be remotely happy and another wolf came and killed Threnody. Scythe came ‘home’ to the deserted bear’s den as she did every day after wandering the lands, looking for new things to learn. She came home to a seemingly dead Threnody. Shocked, she went over and nudged Threnody trying to wake her up. Scythe could not resist doing this; however old she was in mind, her instincts were still that of a puppy’s. One of Threnody’s eyes opened and she spoke to Scythe quietly, ‘Scythe, dear, you’ve been an excellent student. I could not ask for someone more determined or smart. You’ve done every single thing I’ve asked without question and I admire that. I’ve come to think of you, Scythe, as the daughter I will never have.’ A gentle smile made itself seen on Threnody’s maw. ‘I love you, Scythe. I hope you get your revenge.’ With those words, Threnody’s body died and her spirit went up to join the Gods and Goddesses. Scythe stayed by Threnody’s body until she was too hungry to do the slightest thing. Yet, Scythe, having finally decided it was time, got Threnody’s body onto her back and carried her to a certain hill, seven miles away. Scythe buried her ‘mother’s’ body there, knowing nothing would mess with her grave.
Now sixteen months old, Scythe stood near where her brother’s killer lived. The lynx had had a prosperous life and was living quite well. ‘Little does that damned lynx know that he’d going to die soon.’ Scythe thought. Scythe made her way towards the lynx’s cave, taking in everything about the territory. She soon arrived at the lynx’s home and she stood there, taking in the scent of the infernal creature. Gathering all of her knowledge and skills, Scythe howled a challenge to the animal. The animal came out of its den growling in response to her challenge. Scythe waited for the lynx to attack. The lynx rushed her, but Scythe stepped aside quickly. She made her own pass at the lynx, but the lynx dodged her attack as she did his. They attacked each other at the same exact time and scored a hit on each other. From those first drops of spilt blood, the fight continued for five days. Scythe emerged from the late lynx’s territory, bleeding and ragged. The price of killing the lynx? She now only had one eye. Her right eye had been clawed out by the lynx. The lynx, hungry, had stopped to eat the eye and that was what gave Scythe her opening to kill.
She now traveled the lands, becoming a wanderer and a loner. As she reached the age of two, she came into her last growth spurt, soon becoming the four foot tall wolf she is now.
Now she has come here. Will she be an outcast once more? Scythe hoped it would not come to that; that the wolves here would be much nicer than the ones now resting in their graves with Scythe's mark upon them.
Example of Role-play:
An abnormally large, grey and tan wolf steps into the light. Her piercing yellow eye glints with an odd light. A multitude of scars lie etched in her pelt and one scar lies across her right eye making her blind on that side; another tracing her collar bone. Some of her scars formed patterns thanks to the humans and their bull whips. One pattern was a ragged star on her left hind quarter. There were others but that one was the easiest to see. Her gaze flicks across the area taking everything in; the trees, the smaller animals, etc. Her nares flared, taking in the scents of other wolven. Not many in this pack.
Why was she here? She usually took to being a loner. She'd never really gotten along with other wolves. They thought her a murderer and an evil being...though she couldn't really deny it. She'd been through a lot in her life but she'd always been able to cope with it. Loneliness was nothing to her....at least, it didn't use to be. As of late, a yearning for friends had been bothering her. She'd thought she didn't need friends. She still thought that way but she decided to give it a try. It couldn't be all that bad could it?
She stepped farther into the terra, her well-muscled body moving with a grace that did not match her large frame. Her ears swiveled, in the direction of every sound as she traipsed on. She reached the middle of the area and sat down. She did not howl to make herself known. If someone wanted to meet her, they'd smell her or something along those lines.
Age: 16
Email: viper1057@aol.com
How long have you wolf role played: about 8-9 years now
Your Character
Name: Scythe
Age: About 2 1/2 years
Species: We do not know
Gender: Female
Family (1 paragraphs):
Born to Evershade Black Wing and Corona WindFlare, Scythe was the smallest of her litter-mates. Her siblings’ names were Coronus, Lacuna, Red Fury, and Sayago. Scythe has no living family. This is because she was born into the captivity of a human village and when she was only a month old, a fire spread around the village. Everyone in her family died except for her and her eldest brother, Sayago. A couple of weeks later, a lynx killed Sayago.
Personality (2 paragraphs):
Scythe is very...to herself. She is stubborn and hardheaded. She doesn't like being around others much but is willing to give it a try. When it comes to fighting, she fears nothing. Some call her a sociopath. Some say she’s strange. And still others say she evil.
But aside from that, Scythe can be very sweet. She loves pups and finds playing with them is much better then being alone. She once found love but the brute took a different mate, having led her on and she's never opened up to anyone like that since.
Detailed Description (1 paragraph) (include hobbies, fears and dislikes):
Scythe is an abnormally large, grey and tan wolf. She has one neon yellow eye that glints fiercely whenever she is angered. A multitude of scars lie etched in her pelt and one scar lies across her right eye making her blind on that side; another tracing her collar bone. The scar across her eye is a reminder of a certain dead lynx.
History:
Born in a human village, Scythe was very weak and scrawny at birth. She was always picked on by her siblings and her mother didn't like the fact that she was so puny. The only sibling that actually loved her was her eldest brother Sayago (Say-ah-go). Soon enough though, she began to grow into a large pup, larger then her brothers and sisters. At a month of age, a fire caught in one of the houses and spread quickly, killing everyone in her family except for her and her eldest brother, Sayago. A couple of weeks later, a lynx killed Sayago.
Forced to survive on her own, she tried to hunt and fend for herself, but could not. One day, she was starved and close to death as she crawled into a human area. Unfortunately the humans here were vindictive and beat her with a bull whip. This is how she got most of her scars. As soon as she was strong enough, about a month and several whips later, she escaped.
A couple of months later, Scythe stood about two and a half feet tall. Her scars still throb with a sharp pain when she overexerted herself. At six months old, she had taught herself how to hunt even the craftiest of animals, though she was still not big enough to bring down a deer on her own. She now began to teach herself how to fight. She had not yet forgotten about what that lynx had done to her brother.
The first thing Scythe did to train herself was run. She ran whenever she could, pushing her body to its limits, rarely stopping when her body told her it needed to rest. One day, she was running and an old and wise wolf stopped her and asked her why she always ran so much. Scythe hesitated before telling the old one her reasons but the elder wolf promised that she was a loner and had no one else to tell her secret. Upon hearing Scythe’s reasoning, she smiled down upon the pup. ‘A good reason you have there,’ she said. ‘Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not worthy of being in their pack or being their friend. If you, as a pup, barely nine months of age, understand what it takes to fight and have your revenge better then wolves much older then yourself, you are most certainly worthy of any pack. When you get ready to broaden your mind, Scythe, come find me. Ask around. My name is Threnody.’ Scythe smiled and nodded and took off running once more. After a while, Scythe’s endurance began to lengthen out. It took a month and a half but Scythe could run at about 30 mph for over six hours.
The next thing she did was train her mind, getting it ready for whatever Threnody would teach her. She would find a large forest or something of the sorts and stand in the very middle, close her eyes and she would listen. She would listen to the birds and the foxes, and all the other animals. And she would stand there until she became subjective to every single sound in the forest. After a few hours or so of listening, Scythe would follow her own scent out of the forest. Three months later, the day Scythe had been waiting for finally came. Rain poured down in a torrent of wet stings. She padded into the forest, the rain washing away all the scents. She reached the middle and stood there in the freezing cold, the winds somehow making it through the dense forest, whipping at her soaked pelt, making her even colder. She closed her eyes and listened, concentrating on picking up every sound covered by the rain. After an hour, she could hear, however faintly, the scratching of a squirrel in its nest, getting ready to eat a nut, the soft yips of a mother fox’s kits, and every sound imaginable. Following these ‘voices’ she kept her eyes tightly shut and picked her way through the forest, not once taking even the slightest peek. After four hours, Scythe emerged from the forest onto the water soaked plain. She did not smile, for her smiles had long since been forgotten, and still keeping her eyes closed as she made her way to a hill she knew quite well and padded to its crest. A boulder sat atop the hill and she approached it, bumped it with her nose just to make sure she was in the right spot and leapt upon it. And there the pup named Scythe sat. A three foot tall, ten month old pup that lifted her pretty silvren crania and howled her first song. The howl was deep and sorrow-filled, anger coursed through the tune as well. Miles away, Threnody perked her ears up and listened to a howl. Somehow she knew it was Scythe and said to her self and the heavens: ‘A wolf her age should not be so sad or angry. She should be living the way other pups do, she should be carefree and joyous.’ But never again would Scythe live joyously.
A week or so later, Scythe went out in search of Threnody. She quickly made her way to where she first met Threnody, hoping she might be around here, but she wasn’t, so Scythe began to ask around, just as Threnody had told her to four and a half months ago. Soon enough, Scythe found Threnody resting in a deserted cave that still reeked of a bear. Threnody, who’d been sleeping opened an eye and looked at her. A smile coursed over the elder’s maw. “Hello there, Scythe. Are you ready to broaden your mind?” Scythe didn’t say anything, just nodded. Threnody smiled again. “Good, we’ll start right away then. Right now, infact. You’re first lesson is to go out and bring me a fox, without killing it.” Scythe looked at her like she was crazy, but went out and tried to catch a live fox.
She tried, unsuccessfully, for three days. Every time she caught one, she’d accidentally kill it. Scythe sat near a fox’s den one day thinking how she could catch it without harming it. Finally, she realized that she had to sneak up on it, being as quiet as a mouse. Scythe got up from her position and padded over to a dense bush near the fox’s den. There she sat; waiting for at least 45 min. until the fox finally began to creep out of its den. Scythe restrained her self from moving right away, lest she scare it back into its home. As the fox came out, Scythe analyzed how far away from the den she would need to let it get. Suddenly, darted out of the den, and raced towards the fox, which made a mad scamper for its den. Scythe bent her head down as she ran and just as the fox came to his den she snatched him up in her mouth, her teeth not hurting him. She returned to Threnody and went to the back of the cave and set the fox down in a corner, where it quivered in fear. Pleased, Threnody smiled and congratulated Scythe for figuring it out. Scythe just nodded and said thank you, not laughing or smiling. Threnody agreed to teach Scythe every thing she herself knew.
Scythe’s lessons continued for six months, and in time, she knew everything there was to know about animals, the land, life, etc. Soon enough, Scythe began to think of Threnody as a mother; a mother who didn’t make fun of her, yell at her, or look down on her. Scythe was vaguely happy. Until fate decided that Scythe should not even be remotely happy and another wolf came and killed Threnody. Scythe came ‘home’ to the deserted bear’s den as she did every day after wandering the lands, looking for new things to learn. She came home to a seemingly dead Threnody. Shocked, she went over and nudged Threnody trying to wake her up. Scythe could not resist doing this; however old she was in mind, her instincts were still that of a puppy’s. One of Threnody’s eyes opened and she spoke to Scythe quietly, ‘Scythe, dear, you’ve been an excellent student. I could not ask for someone more determined or smart. You’ve done every single thing I’ve asked without question and I admire that. I’ve come to think of you, Scythe, as the daughter I will never have.’ A gentle smile made itself seen on Threnody’s maw. ‘I love you, Scythe. I hope you get your revenge.’ With those words, Threnody’s body died and her spirit went up to join the Gods and Goddesses. Scythe stayed by Threnody’s body until she was too hungry to do the slightest thing. Yet, Scythe, having finally decided it was time, got Threnody’s body onto her back and carried her to a certain hill, seven miles away. Scythe buried her ‘mother’s’ body there, knowing nothing would mess with her grave.
Now sixteen months old, Scythe stood near where her brother’s killer lived. The lynx had had a prosperous life and was living quite well. ‘Little does that damned lynx know that he’d going to die soon.’ Scythe thought. Scythe made her way towards the lynx’s cave, taking in everything about the territory. She soon arrived at the lynx’s home and she stood there, taking in the scent of the infernal creature. Gathering all of her knowledge and skills, Scythe howled a challenge to the animal. The animal came out of its den growling in response to her challenge. Scythe waited for the lynx to attack. The lynx rushed her, but Scythe stepped aside quickly. She made her own pass at the lynx, but the lynx dodged her attack as she did his. They attacked each other at the same exact time and scored a hit on each other. From those first drops of spilt blood, the fight continued for five days. Scythe emerged from the late lynx’s territory, bleeding and ragged. The price of killing the lynx? She now only had one eye. Her right eye had been clawed out by the lynx. The lynx, hungry, had stopped to eat the eye and that was what gave Scythe her opening to kill.
She now traveled the lands, becoming a wanderer and a loner. As she reached the age of two, she came into her last growth spurt, soon becoming the four foot tall wolf she is now.
Now she has come here. Will she be an outcast once more? Scythe hoped it would not come to that; that the wolves here would be much nicer than the ones now resting in their graves with Scythe's mark upon them.
Example of Role-play:
An abnormally large, grey and tan wolf steps into the light. Her piercing yellow eye glints with an odd light. A multitude of scars lie etched in her pelt and one scar lies across her right eye making her blind on that side; another tracing her collar bone. Some of her scars formed patterns thanks to the humans and their bull whips. One pattern was a ragged star on her left hind quarter. There were others but that one was the easiest to see. Her gaze flicks across the area taking everything in; the trees, the smaller animals, etc. Her nares flared, taking in the scents of other wolven. Not many in this pack.
Why was she here? She usually took to being a loner. She'd never really gotten along with other wolves. They thought her a murderer and an evil being...though she couldn't really deny it. She'd been through a lot in her life but she'd always been able to cope with it. Loneliness was nothing to her....at least, it didn't use to be. As of late, a yearning for friends had been bothering her. She'd thought she didn't need friends. She still thought that way but she decided to give it a try. It couldn't be all that bad could it?
She stepped farther into the terra, her well-muscled body moving with a grace that did not match her large frame. Her ears swiveled, in the direction of every sound as she traipsed on. She reached the middle of the area and sat down. She did not howl to make herself known. If someone wanted to meet her, they'd smell her or something along those lines.
