Post by l i f e h o u s e . on Jan 4, 2010 14:24:43 GMT -5
RYELEE
nicknames: Rye, Lee
gender: female
age: 2 years
species: African wild dog
breed: --
pack: loner
rank: –
personality:
Ryelee is a kind soul, but not only that, pretty much afraid of anything that crosses her path- even her prey. She doesn’t like canines that much because they usually pick on her and call her names, so that is why she is a loner, living a solitary life. She is heavy-hearted, and doesn’t have much confidence in herself. She jumps whenever someone calls out her name, making her edgy and unpack like. Ryelee cares about anything in pain, making her the perfect healer for any pack if she wasn’t so scared of anything and actually wanted to join one. She is helpful, and sometimes helps her friends in the forest when they are building their homes, like the hybrid, the mouse, the bird, and the rabbit. She loves making things, whether mixing two of her meals together into a combined mixture that may or may not taste good, or setting up a house from logs, twigs, grass, and sticks.
features:
(I will buy an african wild dog) Young looking, of course, with one blind eye- her right one. They are both dark brown, but her blind one is more of a milky chocolate colour from her blindness, but it is very hard to tell apart unless you stare closly and intently. With small, brown paws she carries her slim fram forward with a lowered gait. She has a limp, her tip of her tail is bitten off. Her ears are scarred, and they have many holes in them. Her tail is quite bushy with a white splash covering half of it.
history:
Born as a loner, Ryelee has been able to see into the future by staring into fire (which I will soon buy) she also has a demon and an angel that tell her what to do some of the time, but they don't show up often. She was bullied by these means wolves in the pack Retronym, giving Ryelee her hideous scars. That is why she is too afraid to join a pack. She was left alone as a pup for being the runt of the litter, but survived surprisingly. She was then left in the care of a kind grey wolf, who adopted her, until sadly, the other mother died one day from the wolves that picked on her.
sample rp:
The air was damp and silent. The sun wasn’t showing through the thick fog. The snow under paw was crunchy after days of it just laying there and not disappearing, and it was a few inches thick. It covered every blade of sharp green grass, making the earth look like it just got invaded by color-sucking aliens. The ground had many prints from all of the forest animals, some fresh and some very old, from a week or two ago. The trees were black and nearly lifeless looking from the winter breeze, branches swaying, showing off. For miles around, there were no leaves that any one could see, and it was rather frightening. Crunching through the white powder with disgust was a Siberian husky-looking wolf with glittering blue eyes that pierced the dying scene. The tundra wolf was born to live in this kind of land, but he loathed the winter just like he hated the other packs for fighting: Retronym and Colcannon. The sun was his type, even though it looked like it would be the worst. His thick, black-and-white fur blew gently in the breeze. White splotches were dotted on his chest like a Doberman, and he had white tufts of fur on his stomach. His tail had an ivory splash on it, his ears had white inside of them, and his muzzle had silver hairs on it- not from being old, because he was good in years, around four, just from birth he looked like that. His paws were bathed in snowy white, which were also very over-sized, like his large head. His tail always curled over his pack, making others always mistake him for a stupid dog. He was a wolf; his family didn’t even have the tainted blood of a human toy, and he was thankfully glad. He rolled his ice-patch lanterns, knowing that he would surely kill himself if he was a husky. Not like he had anything against dogs, but they were so… obedient. It was disgusting the way some dog looked up at a human with trust in his or her eyes. He crossly cursed under his breath and sat down on the crunchy snow, something he usually never did. He looked angrily at the twisted, black trees that were all knotted together, working as one to block out the sunlight in the living forest. Snow-covered bushes jutted their way from him seeing the horizon line, along with the stupid trees.
So he sat there, on his fluffy haunches, looking very pissed off at the situation- that he all of the sudden starting thinking about humans and their toys. When he was a young pup, he lived very far away from this forest, with a two adult humans and their baby. The cub human was so small, the size of Prosper when he was on all fours right now. A couple of weeks passed with his humans, who called him Rascal, and he was so happy. He trusted those humans to look after him, but one day they packed up all of their things and left, forgetting their puppy. Whether it was an accident or not, the heartbroken pup, who was around five moons old, was later picked up by a white truck with was called animal control. He was stolen by men dressed in white, thrown in two cages, and left alone to rust and fade black and blue. But one day, after three horrible nights, a woman dropped by his cage and smiled. Thinking that she was just going to strut off like all of the others, she pointed at him and told a man that she wanted him, and then took him away on another long drive, only this one took a day. The new person called him Prosper, thus his last name that he would ever have, making him always remember the pain that he endured. He lived with that kind, jolly woman until he was one year old, and then she left, too, like the other family. Knowing what was coming next; he dug a large hole in the backyard and escaped, running fifteen miles in the snow to this very forest. He never trusted retarded humans since, and turned down the soft and easy life of a house pet, a human toy, a pet, a human pet, to be owned by someone else. Snarl on his face, he continued to stare innocently at the ground, yet wishing to rip the lungs from a human- any one, it didn’t matter, so that they would feel his pain. He sighed warily, knowing that he must get back to his pack quickly, just in case a new canine came knocking on his door.
He wasn't in the mood for passing restlessly up and down like a regular alpha, so he quickly stood to his feet and padded forward, straight into a clearing where anyone could see him and approach him. As the alpha of Nepenthes, he was supposed to find some members for his newly developed pack, but he felt to angry at the stupid humans to do anything right. He needed to get revenge on them, show them what it was like to be stuck in a cage, unloved, knowing that your life would be cut off at any day- the day that you weren't fed. How it was like to live when you only got meals when you were given them, which was twice a day. He needed to show them how sad it was, and how much pain he had endured, and still was coming across. Was it just him, or was he going a bit... crazy? He shook his pelt roughly, and then sat down in the middle of the small clearing. He could smell the Retronym border close by, wafting over his nostrils and making him sneeze at the horrible smell. Lips curled to show the world his teeth, he wondered, I wonder if I should change my name. After all, that woman that left me gave me it. I should give myself a better, more suitable name, like... Er... Humankiller, or Personbitter. Something along those lines instead of stupid old Prosper. What does it mean anyway? The human gave it to me... Is it some sort of human word? It needs to be better. It still confused him why someone would call him Prosper. And why did he still keep the cursed name?
characters: Prosper
name: Prosper