Post by Tessa on May 22, 2010 1:13:03 GMT -5
[/font][/right][/size]XX. SABIAN IKORR
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Age:
6 years
My Gender:
Male
I Am A Member Of The:
The United Pack
I Uphold The Rank Of:
None yet
XX. Information
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Appearance(150 words minimum):
Sabians fur is thick, white and smooth. It has never been stained too bad by blood. He is tall and muscular, with sharp green eyes flecked in gold. His tail is always like a flag, waving in the air. This brutes ears are always pricked and ready to pick up on anything that may interest him. He walks with a certain kind of certainty about him, not like an alpha, but like he has seen enough of the world to know his place. His fangs are sharp and deadly, ready to defend his loved ones or his pack. He has equally sharp claws, black as a ravens feather. His howl is deafening and solemnly chilling. His stance betrays an almost cocky air to him, his head and tail always held high. But the pack knows he is a wolf of pack-order. Sabians coat becomes an apricot color in the summer months when the heat becomes too much for his arctic coating, and he becomes a gleaming, golden wonder.
Personality(150 words):
Sabian is not a talker. Unlike many wolves he isn't the best at pack life. However this is only because of his previous history. The wolves here seem to think that they rule the world. This kind of self inflation does not abide well by Sabian, who grew up in a society where every creature, no matter what they are or where they come from, whether they were prey or enemy, were treated with respect. He is often considered to be the loner of loners, a wolf who needs no one and tends to keep it that way. However, due to his age, it is possible that he could find it in his wolfish heart to take on an apprentice of sorts, although, he would require some convincing. He would not take on just any mutt. They would need to be determined and willing to learn, or in need of it, and some one he could trust. In short, Sabian is the sort of wolf that would be synonymous with those old kung-fu masters with infinite wisdom and strange means of instruction you often see in movies. His cryptic way of speaking and ever whirring mind is a sign of that. He WOULD find a mate, if there was one he wanted. But none seem to interest him. She would need to be independent and strong, not needy and whimpering like many of the dogs here. She would also need to like her privacy, and not like too much company (although sometimes he finds himself pining for pack life).
History: optional
Sabians fur is thick, white and smooth. It has never been stained too bad by blood. He is tall and muscular, with sharp green eyes flecked in gold. His tail is always like a flag, waving in the air. This brutes ears are always pricked and ready to pick up on anything that may interest him. He walks with a certain kind of certainty about him, not like an alpha, but like he has seen enough of the world to know his place. His fangs are sharp and deadly, ready to defend his loved ones or his pack. He has equally sharp claws, black as a ravens feather. His howl is deafening and solemnly chilling. His stance betrays an almost cocky air to him, his head and tail always held high. But the pack knows he is a wolf of pack-order. Sabians coat becomes an apricot color in the summer months when the heat becomes too much for his arctic coating, and he becomes a gleaming, golden wonder.
Personality(150 words):
Sabian is not a talker. Unlike many wolves he isn't the best at pack life. However this is only because of his previous history. The wolves here seem to think that they rule the world. This kind of self inflation does not abide well by Sabian, who grew up in a society where every creature, no matter what they are or where they come from, whether they were prey or enemy, were treated with respect. He is often considered to be the loner of loners, a wolf who needs no one and tends to keep it that way. However, due to his age, it is possible that he could find it in his wolfish heart to take on an apprentice of sorts, although, he would require some convincing. He would not take on just any mutt. They would need to be determined and willing to learn, or in need of it, and some one he could trust. In short, Sabian is the sort of wolf that would be synonymous with those old kung-fu masters with infinite wisdom and strange means of instruction you often see in movies. His cryptic way of speaking and ever whirring mind is a sign of that. He WOULD find a mate, if there was one he wanted. But none seem to interest him. She would need to be independent and strong, not needy and whimpering like many of the dogs here. She would also need to like her privacy, and not like too much company (although sometimes he finds himself pining for pack life).
History: optional
XX. A Little Extra
Likes:
Dislikes:
RP Sample:
[/b]- Snoozing in the sun
- Puppies
- Mentoring
Dislikes:
- The cold and rain
- heights
- over dominant males
RP Sample:
She sighed distractedly as the cool harbor waters surged around her swollen, aching ankles. The sinking sun stroked and rubbed her shoulders free of tense muscles and the squawking 'gulls percussive vocals soothed her racing mind. She focused on them, the sounds of the waves breaking at shore and the boats rocking back and forth next to the dock. She liked the ocean, and especially at this time of the day. She was still dressed in her waitress's uniform. Sweaty and drenched in the scent of coffee. She never cared for it. It had this disgusting, earthy, offensive taste to it that never failed to make her recoil.
She shrugged her bag from her shoulders and un-zipped it slowly. Begrudgingly, almost hesitantly, she rummaged through and pulled out a small book. It was something that someone her age should not be reading. It should be too easy. But she stopped her education when she was taken in by Ted, and was still learning how to read. She was advancing fast, eating through an average of ten books a week. But it was tiring work and beyond frustrating, and Xara was still tired from a long full days work. A long, busy full days work. God it was busy. She had one good break and that was when the shop was only barely busy. People and their caffeine addictions. Pah. Almost as bad as nicotine, if you asked her.
She flipped open the small, 200 page paperback and began reading. She noticed how easy it was now for her. She was reading now at a grade 7 level, which was almost good enough. But she was determined and self competitive. She challenged herself to do it.
The woman read like a maniac through the setting sun. She managed to read 150 pages before the light was completely gone from the harbor. Xara sighed, stretched, and folded the book closed, sliding it to the docks surface and stretched again.
She then brought her feet in from the salty waters and curled her legs onto the dock, fumbling in the dim light for her after work sandals. Her hands clamped on them upon contact and she stood, slipping one on her now frozen foot. As she stood to put the other one on she felt her weight tip backwards, and she stepped back to compensate. Big mistake. She stumbled back, and felt her left heel catch on the edge of the dock.
"shit."
She flailed her arms in vicious circles, but to no avail. She felt the waters close in around her head and she inhaled hastily. She was drowning. Her lungs filled with water and her mind panicked. She scrambled to the surface. It seemed as if it would never come. Her ankle was caught on something, but she fought even harder. It was stuck. She jerked her leg. It was stuck. She swam harder. It was stuck. She passed out...
And it came free. She blearily pushed to the surface and clung to the dock, vomiting water. Shakily she pulled herself, like a wet cat, to the dock and sat shivering and embarrassed.
How so very graceful of you.[/blockquote][/size][/ul][/quote]
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