Post by Kota on Apr 10, 2008 3:41:26 GMT -5
Name: Maki
Age: 2 years
Height: 29"
Breed: Arctic Wolf
Gender: Female
Personality: A deciever by nature. Her only joy is to destroy feelings and love made up around her; naturally she makes herself/is the center of attention. Of course, she doesn't protray these emotions- she much rather wait and seem the innocent little 'pup' than to spoil any chance she may have with her fun.
Appearance:
200 word example post:
Paws thumbled in the grass, the glint of an ivory fanged snarl slowly tilting the maw of the female. Blood stained her muzzle, dying her pristine white coat into a mess found only during the hours of hunting. The rustle she had heard within the bushes had faded, probably a rabbit who had strayed too far from its den. A snort came from the snout, and her attention soon turned back to the carcass that lay before her. The carcass she was so keen to protect. For the very meat that had already began to decompose was that of her 'lover'. Hate had brought her here. "But for what reasons?" many wolves had pondered. The answer was simple: none. She chose to be this way- a killer of her own kind.
A killer of her lured prey.
It was much more interesting than those of the dumb animals that skitter so far into the pack territory of a wolf. She could mess with them, turn them, play with their feble emotions.. Unlike with the clueless beasts the wolf consider their true food. A grunt of anger errupted from her throat as her fangs tore at the bloody mess at her paws. This is what lured her- this is what she lived for.
Age: 2 years
Height: 29"
Breed: Arctic Wolf
Gender: Female
Personality: A deciever by nature. Her only joy is to destroy feelings and love made up around her; naturally she makes herself/is the center of attention. Of course, she doesn't protray these emotions- she much rather wait and seem the innocent little 'pup' than to spoil any chance she may have with her fun.
Appearance:
200 word example post:
Paws thumbled in the grass, the glint of an ivory fanged snarl slowly tilting the maw of the female. Blood stained her muzzle, dying her pristine white coat into a mess found only during the hours of hunting. The rustle she had heard within the bushes had faded, probably a rabbit who had strayed too far from its den. A snort came from the snout, and her attention soon turned back to the carcass that lay before her. The carcass she was so keen to protect. For the very meat that had already began to decompose was that of her 'lover'. Hate had brought her here. "But for what reasons?" many wolves had pondered. The answer was simple: none. She chose to be this way- a killer of her own kind.
A killer of her lured prey.
It was much more interesting than those of the dumb animals that skitter so far into the pack territory of a wolf. She could mess with them, turn them, play with their feble emotions.. Unlike with the clueless beasts the wolf consider their true food. A grunt of anger errupted from her throat as her fangs tore at the bloody mess at her paws. This is what lured her- this is what she lived for.
