Post by Kai on Jul 10, 2007 17:09:24 GMT -5
Name: Flint
Gender: Male
Age: 3 years
Species: Gray Wolf
Physical Appearance: Flint’s dark orange-gold eyes are surrounded by a thick black outline making them jump out at you. His coat is rather lightly colored, with most of the markings muted. Flint’s base color is a soft creamy white. His ears are a light red shade, similar to his eye color. A soft grey is on his forehead, and the side of neck; this same color forms a line down his back that ends in the middle of his tail which is tipped in a darker grey. A pure white stripe begins at his nose, and ends at the center of Flint’s eyes. On both of the back legs, a soft gray sock begins after the elbow and deepens in color which ends at his paws, which are a dark gray. His front left leg is a pure white, but his right leg bears an odd scar. Actually, its more of regrown fur. A black snake twists up his paws and around his arm, the head ending in the middle of his shoulder blade. It’s very realistic and has a red tongue and eye as well.
History: Flint is the son of White Wind and Black Claw, his birthpack’s betas. He was there only son in a litter of five, but both the Beta and Alpha cubs were raised alongside each other. Together there was eleven cubs, six of which were males. Flint didn’t really get into fighting as much as the other cubs though. He always got what he wanted, and he fought just enough to get it. Usually his older ‘brother’ Mud Claw would aggitate him into fighting. Most of the time Flint did come out in the top, despite Mud being a bit bigger. The Alpha Female died rather early, so White Wind assumed the postion. This caused Flint to have trouble identifying his father. Without much of a fmaily idenity, Flint set out to be a truly orignal wolf.
In his teenage phase, Flint took full advantage of his new long legs. He was the bane of every cubsitter, always figuring out how to get his siblings to distract them so he could make a get away. Mud mellowed down after a while, and started going out with Flint as a friend. The two usually were engaged with something. Diving off of the local waterfall was there favorite activty. Flint learned to dive deep into the water and swim rather well because of this. But jumping from high places wasn’t enough. Climbing trees, going up moutains, it was amazing that no one died from worry. Flint did older, on the outside. He managed a decent rank during his yearling stage. Nothing really amazing happened then. Nothing until the middle of his second year that is.
Lighting had struck an old tree beginning, a chain of events. The forest was dry from a lack of rain, and the old dying autumn leaves caught ablaze easily. All types of animals fled the flames. Flint’s pack turned tail and ran. Flint was the last to leave, trailing behind the cubs to make sure none dwaddled or stopped. None did, for behind them a wolf could see the trees begin to burn and wither. The clouds above were dark and gray, as if heavy with rain, but refused to let a drop of water fall. But something else fell. Lighting hit another tree, and quickly Flint found himself buried under it. Fire started by the lighting raced up one of his legs as he pulled himself out. Rolling on the ground, the flames died leaving his once white fur singed. Following the trail of his pack, Flint made it to safety. He recovered rather well, and the only thing that had changed about him was the new fur.
Most of the fur came back as black, something rather odd since Flint never had any black fur on him before. But what really was amazing, was the shape his scar took: a black snake with mouth open and fangs beared. Some of the Elders in his pack suggested a grim theory. They think that Flint was destined to die under that burning branch, but that he made a deal with the God of Death or pleased him enough to let him live for a bit longer. Flint ignored most of the rumors, knowing that his own stregth saved him. As for the marking, he got lucky and received a great scar. Towards the end of his second winter, Flint decieved to leave the pack. He had always planned to do this, but the nonesense about his scar was getting sickening. Flint knew his birth pack was a rather supersitious one, and doubts that other wolves could be that foolish.
Personality: Flint is a bit careless, especially when there is a chance of having fun. He dose things on the spur of the moment, often chasing a simple whim or thought. Flint likes to have company, and will go into a state of withdrawal without it sometimes. He’s outspoken, although at the same time Flint tries not offend anyone. Flint fights for different reasons than most wolves as well. Most fight for dominance, but Flint usually doses it for the thrill. He doesn’t mind being on top, and enjoys it somewhat. Flint usually doesn’t make that big of a care about rank and focuses rather on individual situations. He will go with the flow, until there is something he wants. Then Flint is focused and will work to try and get it. He accepts that he is mortal and therefore can make mistakes and lose from time to time. In his point of view, life is hard enough without you trying to hold grudges and such.
Territory: None
Gender: Male
Age: 3 years
Species: Gray Wolf
Physical Appearance: Flint’s dark orange-gold eyes are surrounded by a thick black outline making them jump out at you. His coat is rather lightly colored, with most of the markings muted. Flint’s base color is a soft creamy white. His ears are a light red shade, similar to his eye color. A soft grey is on his forehead, and the side of neck; this same color forms a line down his back that ends in the middle of his tail which is tipped in a darker grey. A pure white stripe begins at his nose, and ends at the center of Flint’s eyes. On both of the back legs, a soft gray sock begins after the elbow and deepens in color which ends at his paws, which are a dark gray. His front left leg is a pure white, but his right leg bears an odd scar. Actually, its more of regrown fur. A black snake twists up his paws and around his arm, the head ending in the middle of his shoulder blade. It’s very realistic and has a red tongue and eye as well.
History: Flint is the son of White Wind and Black Claw, his birthpack’s betas. He was there only son in a litter of five, but both the Beta and Alpha cubs were raised alongside each other. Together there was eleven cubs, six of which were males. Flint didn’t really get into fighting as much as the other cubs though. He always got what he wanted, and he fought just enough to get it. Usually his older ‘brother’ Mud Claw would aggitate him into fighting. Most of the time Flint did come out in the top, despite Mud being a bit bigger. The Alpha Female died rather early, so White Wind assumed the postion. This caused Flint to have trouble identifying his father. Without much of a fmaily idenity, Flint set out to be a truly orignal wolf.
In his teenage phase, Flint took full advantage of his new long legs. He was the bane of every cubsitter, always figuring out how to get his siblings to distract them so he could make a get away. Mud mellowed down after a while, and started going out with Flint as a friend. The two usually were engaged with something. Diving off of the local waterfall was there favorite activty. Flint learned to dive deep into the water and swim rather well because of this. But jumping from high places wasn’t enough. Climbing trees, going up moutains, it was amazing that no one died from worry. Flint did older, on the outside. He managed a decent rank during his yearling stage. Nothing really amazing happened then. Nothing until the middle of his second year that is.
Lighting had struck an old tree beginning, a chain of events. The forest was dry from a lack of rain, and the old dying autumn leaves caught ablaze easily. All types of animals fled the flames. Flint’s pack turned tail and ran. Flint was the last to leave, trailing behind the cubs to make sure none dwaddled or stopped. None did, for behind them a wolf could see the trees begin to burn and wither. The clouds above were dark and gray, as if heavy with rain, but refused to let a drop of water fall. But something else fell. Lighting hit another tree, and quickly Flint found himself buried under it. Fire started by the lighting raced up one of his legs as he pulled himself out. Rolling on the ground, the flames died leaving his once white fur singed. Following the trail of his pack, Flint made it to safety. He recovered rather well, and the only thing that had changed about him was the new fur.
Most of the fur came back as black, something rather odd since Flint never had any black fur on him before. But what really was amazing, was the shape his scar took: a black snake with mouth open and fangs beared. Some of the Elders in his pack suggested a grim theory. They think that Flint was destined to die under that burning branch, but that he made a deal with the God of Death or pleased him enough to let him live for a bit longer. Flint ignored most of the rumors, knowing that his own stregth saved him. As for the marking, he got lucky and received a great scar. Towards the end of his second winter, Flint decieved to leave the pack. He had always planned to do this, but the nonesense about his scar was getting sickening. Flint knew his birth pack was a rather supersitious one, and doubts that other wolves could be that foolish.
Personality: Flint is a bit careless, especially when there is a chance of having fun. He dose things on the spur of the moment, often chasing a simple whim or thought. Flint likes to have company, and will go into a state of withdrawal without it sometimes. He’s outspoken, although at the same time Flint tries not offend anyone. Flint fights for different reasons than most wolves as well. Most fight for dominance, but Flint usually doses it for the thrill. He doesn’t mind being on top, and enjoys it somewhat. Flint usually doesn’t make that big of a care about rank and focuses rather on individual situations. He will go with the flow, until there is something he wants. Then Flint is focused and will work to try and get it. He accepts that he is mortal and therefore can make mistakes and lose from time to time. In his point of view, life is hard enough without you trying to hold grudges and such.
Territory: None