Post by Moonlight on Mar 5, 2011 21:24:43 GMT -5
Name:[/i] Ada
Age/Moons:[/i] 2 Years
Gender:[/i] Female
Species:[/i] Dog
Breed:[/i] Mutt (Black Labrador / Great Dane / Catahoula)
Appearance:[/i] Weighing around seventy pounds and standing a few inches over a labrador’s height, her slender muscle ripples with her run. Large paws could fill a human’s palm if they were still alive, hardened with travel already. The nails of her paws are rarely sharp from walking on abandoned concrete roads and sidewalks, filed down to a comfortable length that is less likely to catch on something. Ada’s double layered coat is actually quite thin, the first layer acting as more of a buffer. The pitch darkness of it shines under nearly any light, yet on a new moon she can blend in seamlessly. Her long tail has a notable curl to it, over half of it hanging over her back when she has it up. Floppy triangular ears accent her smooth head, much like a “modern” labrador’s. Gentle brown eyes soften her dark features, rarely hardened with anger. The fur on her nose is little more than a soft and short fuzz, her black nose itself soft and moist.
Personality:[/i] Although Ada’s naturally friendly personality remains at the root of her mind, the recent territorial issues of wherever she is passing has made her more wary than usual. Her mind and senses are acute, though, never one to go hungry from lack of attention to her surroundings. But the young mutt is willing to defend herself if necessary, and will fight if it comes to it. Her maturity has perhaps come before her time, but only for survival. She is one to stand steadfast in her beliefs, though, as well as her decisions. Expect the curl of her muzzle if pressed, and a warning snap before lashing out in attack. But dormant loyalty, when given the chance to rise, becoming fighting words if her companions are threatened.
History:[/i] Ada was born in the recesses of a crumbling city, being the sole pup of a hunger weakened mother. Her early memories are of a warm and sheltered area, curled in pieces of blankets that her mother had found. Although food was scarce at first, as she learned to stumble about and walk they went a little further away from their den to get more opulent food sources. The black pup soon got stronger with the regular exercise, but still grew quickly – And actually starting to grow into her paws.
As the moons passed they wandered over the entire remains of the city, scavenging food that had been left by other hunters and taking on smaller prey of their own. While it wasn’t the greatest life offered to them, the tales that Rayne told her kept her hopes up. Stories of the past, legends scarcely told anymore. But the lore of Paradise always had her ears perked, and distracted her from the shambling state of the world around her. It didn’t keep her from learning the skills needed to keep on living, but the prospect of bliss paled the suffering in front of her.
Perhaps she was pinning her hopes on a dream. A dream that was shattered with the death of her mother in the midwinter of her first year, Rayne having fallen into frozen water from a bridge. By the time she managed to get out, her coat was soaked through-and-through. It didn’t take long for a chill to set in, and but days later for her to vanish from the world.
Over the next several moons Ada wandered around the city, only mulling over the idea of leaving the city. That one in particular was becoming steadily more dangerous, turf wars commonplace. Even looking for prey was more dangerous than the larger meals available. It almost wasn’t worth the risk, save for the gnawing of an empty belly. She moved on little under a moon later, spending the next five wandering open grasslands, forests, and other territories. Though she spent most of her time alone, she still learned the hard way about many things on the path of wandering. One of which was the more subtle scent markers, being far more dangerous than the ones she was accustomed to because they were easier to miss. How to appropriately judge misleading ice, after sticking a paw through it at one point. And probably one of the most important – How to hunt despite the most deterring conditions.
Yet, despite her wandering, she has grown tired of being alone. Her need for companionship is simple in itself, though her solitary lifestyle and early memories of turf wars have succeeded in making her wary.
Age/Moons:[/i] 2 Years
Gender:[/i] Female
Species:[/i] Dog
Breed:[/i] Mutt (Black Labrador / Great Dane / Catahoula)
Appearance:[/i] Weighing around seventy pounds and standing a few inches over a labrador’s height, her slender muscle ripples with her run. Large paws could fill a human’s palm if they were still alive, hardened with travel already. The nails of her paws are rarely sharp from walking on abandoned concrete roads and sidewalks, filed down to a comfortable length that is less likely to catch on something. Ada’s double layered coat is actually quite thin, the first layer acting as more of a buffer. The pitch darkness of it shines under nearly any light, yet on a new moon she can blend in seamlessly. Her long tail has a notable curl to it, over half of it hanging over her back when she has it up. Floppy triangular ears accent her smooth head, much like a “modern” labrador’s. Gentle brown eyes soften her dark features, rarely hardened with anger. The fur on her nose is little more than a soft and short fuzz, her black nose itself soft and moist.
Personality:[/i] Although Ada’s naturally friendly personality remains at the root of her mind, the recent territorial issues of wherever she is passing has made her more wary than usual. Her mind and senses are acute, though, never one to go hungry from lack of attention to her surroundings. But the young mutt is willing to defend herself if necessary, and will fight if it comes to it. Her maturity has perhaps come before her time, but only for survival. She is one to stand steadfast in her beliefs, though, as well as her decisions. Expect the curl of her muzzle if pressed, and a warning snap before lashing out in attack. But dormant loyalty, when given the chance to rise, becoming fighting words if her companions are threatened.
History:[/i] Ada was born in the recesses of a crumbling city, being the sole pup of a hunger weakened mother. Her early memories are of a warm and sheltered area, curled in pieces of blankets that her mother had found. Although food was scarce at first, as she learned to stumble about and walk they went a little further away from their den to get more opulent food sources. The black pup soon got stronger with the regular exercise, but still grew quickly – And actually starting to grow into her paws.
As the moons passed they wandered over the entire remains of the city, scavenging food that had been left by other hunters and taking on smaller prey of their own. While it wasn’t the greatest life offered to them, the tales that Rayne told her kept her hopes up. Stories of the past, legends scarcely told anymore. But the lore of Paradise always had her ears perked, and distracted her from the shambling state of the world around her. It didn’t keep her from learning the skills needed to keep on living, but the prospect of bliss paled the suffering in front of her.
Perhaps she was pinning her hopes on a dream. A dream that was shattered with the death of her mother in the midwinter of her first year, Rayne having fallen into frozen water from a bridge. By the time she managed to get out, her coat was soaked through-and-through. It didn’t take long for a chill to set in, and but days later for her to vanish from the world.
Over the next several moons Ada wandered around the city, only mulling over the idea of leaving the city. That one in particular was becoming steadily more dangerous, turf wars commonplace. Even looking for prey was more dangerous than the larger meals available. It almost wasn’t worth the risk, save for the gnawing of an empty belly. She moved on little under a moon later, spending the next five wandering open grasslands, forests, and other territories. Though she spent most of her time alone, she still learned the hard way about many things on the path of wandering. One of which was the more subtle scent markers, being far more dangerous than the ones she was accustomed to because they were easier to miss. How to appropriately judge misleading ice, after sticking a paw through it at one point. And probably one of the most important – How to hunt despite the most deterring conditions.
Yet, despite her wandering, she has grown tired of being alone. Her need for companionship is simple in itself, though her solitary lifestyle and early memories of turf wars have succeeded in making her wary.