Post by Ryse on Apr 7, 2010 8:35:19 GMT -6
Furcadia Player Name:Scheryse
Character Name:Scheryse
Age:2 winters, one moon.
Gender:She-wolf.
Breed:80% Alaskan wolf, 20% something unknown.
Mate/Courting:None.
Offspring:None.
Appearance [pictures and/or weblinks are accepted]: Mischevious gleam to those silver-green eye, she is a lean beast, obviously built for speed. Her back is charcoal, the rest of her fur mottled silver and white. The she-wolf's ears are tipped dark blood red, and her paws are charcoal as well. She looks almost fragile at times, a timid creature.
Reason for Joining: Miss having some place to talk to others, someone to protect.
Preferred Rank:Scout or equivalent.
Example of RP:
Contactable Alts:None.
Anything else?:I eat socks. I'm over-protective.
Character Name:Scheryse
Age:2 winters, one moon.
Gender:She-wolf.
Breed:80% Alaskan wolf, 20% something unknown.
Mate/Courting:None.
Offspring:None.
Appearance [pictures and/or weblinks are accepted]: Mischevious gleam to those silver-green eye, she is a lean beast, obviously built for speed. Her back is charcoal, the rest of her fur mottled silver and white. The she-wolf's ears are tipped dark blood red, and her paws are charcoal as well. She looks almost fragile at times, a timid creature.
Reason for Joining: Miss having some place to talk to others, someone to protect.
Preferred Rank:Scout or equivalent.
Example of RP:
The dawn drew warmth over the land, spreading like amber sap over the Alaskan terra. A rock moved and rose, revealing the charcoal silver creature that was Scheryse. Another cold night alone proved to a new day, as it always did. The routine bored her. Scheryse missed what having a pack meant. The territory fights, warm nights in a den, chatting, hunting with the others . . . Those days were long behind her, even in her young years.
With a sigh, Scheryse took to her paws and started on the move again. Quiet steps, shifting her weight as the ice crackled beneath her, she searched for signs of life. Predator or prey, friend or foe, just something. There had to be something. This . . . lack of life annoyed her. Scheryse broke into a run, and a thrust exploded from the foliage. Silver-green eyes swiveled as she skidded on her paws, straining to back to it.
It was a lost cause. With a sigh of irritation and boredom, Scheryse kept moving. She had to be more careful, or she'd die alone out here. What a morbid thought.
Contactable Alts:None.
Anything else?:I eat socks. I'm over-protective.