Post by Heron on Jul 27, 2009 15:43:50 GMT -5
Name: Heron
Age: 2 ½
Gender: Female
Species: Gray Wolf
Appearance: Herons body is beautiful, though scarred. A gorgeous red silky coat is smoothly interrupted by off white patches on her stomach, face, and rear left paw. Her fur is long and heavy, covering the scars of a survivor. Three scars run vertically along the right side of her body, and two puncture scars mark her right haunch. All five scars are bald, though hidden by the falling waves of her shaggy fur. Her tail is drooping, held low by her heavy fur. Heron walks with a swaggering limp, her front right paw completely missing below the ankle.
Herons is gentle, her relatively sharp features softened by an off-white eye patch bleeding into the red fur. The patch is a nearly perfect circle, blended with the surrounding red fur. Her nose is black with a small white spot in the shape of a butterfly. Herons face is completed by her brilliantly blue eyes, in sharp contrast with her colors.
She is an average build, standing at 28 inches at the shoulders and 53 inches from nose to tail, and weighing 63 pounds. Herons body is strong, built like a soldiers, ready and built to fight.
Personality: Herons face is always tired and weary, as though she carries a great weight. Her blue eyes echo with pain beyond her years and troubles that the young should never have to bear. Through this pain and a ferocity that lurks on the surface, Heron is gentle and soft spoken. Though she is beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful part of Heron is her tinkling laugh.
Heron is highly suspicious of those she does not know, and is always ready to fight for her life. She is a hardened fighter, and it takes time to earn her respect, and even longer for someone to earn her friendship. Heron will not avoid a fight, but she will do her best to prevent a fight.
Leadership is not Herons strong point. When given orders Heron obeys easily, and has no trouble controlling those under her. She is an experienced fighter, a veteran who does not fear the gore of a fight, or the responsibility and trust an Alpha puts on her head. Once her trust is earned Heron is fiercely loyal, to the extreme. Heron is a valuable ally, though one difficult to obtain.
Pack: Amber Moor
Rank: Subordinate
Other: Heron is afraid of water. During her flight from a former packs prosecution Heron was forced to water. In her flight she struck her head, and barely escaped from drowning. She does not swim and tries to even avoid standing in shallow water.
History: “I did not expose the pack secrets!” Herons voice sounded small and frightened, even to her. She was barley a year and a half old and fiercely dedicated to her beloved pack. This trial was breaking her heart. She had been born to the Outland pack, how could they accuse her of being a traitor?
“You were caught giving information to-”
“I was not giving them information! The male I met was my… my mate!” Heron knew that this would seem a gross betrayal, but not a crime.
“You have been proven guilty, and now you must suffer the consequences! You will die!” The alphas howl was the order for her executioners to do their job. Heron quaked as her death inched closer.
She was one of the best of the younger fighters of the pack, but even so her struggle for life would be a mockery of a pack.
The fight was short and bloody. Somehow Heron broke free of the circle. Somehow she was still alive. Heron ran her side and leg bleeding profusely. She shot foreword, fear blinding her to her pain. A pack member cut in front of her, snapping at her front paws, tripping her.
Heron was blinded by her pain, but her paw came free. Limping she ran again, the pack chasing her for what seemed like ages. Finally they veered off, leaving the chase, probably believing she would die of her wounds. She kept running until she came to a river. Beyond rational thought Heron jumped. On impact she hit her head, her would going black.
When she came too Heron could not breathe. A crushing weight surrounded her, Heron fought it, fighting an unknown enemy. It was only after she broke free that Heron realized she was in water, her lungs burning.
Struggling towards the shore Heron fought against exhaustion. When she finally reached blessed ground, she collapsed, eyes clouding over with pain.
Her paw felt strange… Weakly she looked at her paw, wondering where it had gone…
***
Heron was tired. She was tired of fighting for mercenary causes; tired of moving endlessly, tired of disgrace.
It was time to go home, to face what consequences waited for her; Even death.
Finished! Not the best. . . But finished!
Age: 2 ½
Gender: Female
Species: Gray Wolf
Appearance: Herons body is beautiful, though scarred. A gorgeous red silky coat is smoothly interrupted by off white patches on her stomach, face, and rear left paw. Her fur is long and heavy, covering the scars of a survivor. Three scars run vertically along the right side of her body, and two puncture scars mark her right haunch. All five scars are bald, though hidden by the falling waves of her shaggy fur. Her tail is drooping, held low by her heavy fur. Heron walks with a swaggering limp, her front right paw completely missing below the ankle.
Herons is gentle, her relatively sharp features softened by an off-white eye patch bleeding into the red fur. The patch is a nearly perfect circle, blended with the surrounding red fur. Her nose is black with a small white spot in the shape of a butterfly. Herons face is completed by her brilliantly blue eyes, in sharp contrast with her colors.
She is an average build, standing at 28 inches at the shoulders and 53 inches from nose to tail, and weighing 63 pounds. Herons body is strong, built like a soldiers, ready and built to fight.
Personality: Herons face is always tired and weary, as though she carries a great weight. Her blue eyes echo with pain beyond her years and troubles that the young should never have to bear. Through this pain and a ferocity that lurks on the surface, Heron is gentle and soft spoken. Though she is beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful part of Heron is her tinkling laugh.
Heron is highly suspicious of those she does not know, and is always ready to fight for her life. She is a hardened fighter, and it takes time to earn her respect, and even longer for someone to earn her friendship. Heron will not avoid a fight, but she will do her best to prevent a fight.
Leadership is not Herons strong point. When given orders Heron obeys easily, and has no trouble controlling those under her. She is an experienced fighter, a veteran who does not fear the gore of a fight, or the responsibility and trust an Alpha puts on her head. Once her trust is earned Heron is fiercely loyal, to the extreme. Heron is a valuable ally, though one difficult to obtain.
Pack: Amber Moor
Rank: Subordinate
Other: Heron is afraid of water. During her flight from a former packs prosecution Heron was forced to water. In her flight she struck her head, and barely escaped from drowning. She does not swim and tries to even avoid standing in shallow water.
History: “I did not expose the pack secrets!” Herons voice sounded small and frightened, even to her. She was barley a year and a half old and fiercely dedicated to her beloved pack. This trial was breaking her heart. She had been born to the Outland pack, how could they accuse her of being a traitor?
“You were caught giving information to-”
“I was not giving them information! The male I met was my… my mate!” Heron knew that this would seem a gross betrayal, but not a crime.
“You have been proven guilty, and now you must suffer the consequences! You will die!” The alphas howl was the order for her executioners to do their job. Heron quaked as her death inched closer.
She was one of the best of the younger fighters of the pack, but even so her struggle for life would be a mockery of a pack.
The fight was short and bloody. Somehow Heron broke free of the circle. Somehow she was still alive. Heron ran her side and leg bleeding profusely. She shot foreword, fear blinding her to her pain. A pack member cut in front of her, snapping at her front paws, tripping her.
Heron was blinded by her pain, but her paw came free. Limping she ran again, the pack chasing her for what seemed like ages. Finally they veered off, leaving the chase, probably believing she would die of her wounds. She kept running until she came to a river. Beyond rational thought Heron jumped. On impact she hit her head, her would going black.
When she came too Heron could not breathe. A crushing weight surrounded her, Heron fought it, fighting an unknown enemy. It was only after she broke free that Heron realized she was in water, her lungs burning.
Struggling towards the shore Heron fought against exhaustion. When she finally reached blessed ground, she collapsed, eyes clouding over with pain.
Her paw felt strange… Weakly she looked at her paw, wondering where it had gone…
***
Heron was tired. She was tired of fighting for mercenary causes; tired of moving endlessly, tired of disgrace.
It was time to go home, to face what consequences waited for her; Even death.
Finished! Not the best. . . But finished!
Welcome to GD!