Post by Maime on Dec 21, 2006 6:36:06 GMT -5
Character Information ::
Call me Relente, but I am known as Outline.
I have bore four flirtatious winters.
I consist of male organs.
I am a wretched form of a Hybrid.
My parents no longer exist.
My kin are yet to be discovered.
I do not have a companion.
My genes do not live in any form ... yet.
My desire is to live in honor of Head Warrior.
My appearance is some thing like this: Exterior frame was glazed with a masculine gift, muscular and thin and full of youth. Beasts' upper spinal course supported feathered appendages, folded neatly against his figure. Onyx instruments spindled from slim mitts, bushy multi-colored caudal hit just the deadly art they could do. His colors was of a ashe pigmentation, glazed with a thick creme underbelly to blend in hue within it. Charcoal hued spine roped down to his flicking caudal.
Roleplaying ::
Socializing; He jumped to his mitts and let out an excited yip, and caudal swayed back and forth in happiness. The spike tip on his feathery appendage ment nothing to him, he was always acknowledged by the others. He barked, and jumped, swerving after the chocolate wolf who had large feathery appendages too! Oral appendage lolled from his jowls and gave a quick lick to the wolfess. Then he backed up, waiting for her reaction.
Fighting; Quenched and starved; but he wasn't giving up the fight. It had barely started and brujo was already bored. Raspy snarl emitted from Relente's turn. He had a few tricks up his sleeve. Ash wolf groggily let out a snarl, and charged forward, head on. He planned on juking his target, and planned on getting a good aim. He swerved away from his aim, and leaped up, his destination: the throat. If he caught a good grip, he'd automatically tear down and let the wolf choke on his own blood. Foolish mutt ..
Hunting; Fore limbs hulked so close to the earth, a raspy snarl throated from his jowls. But he ducked lower. Gah, foolish. He waited for his prey to calm. When all was serene, he crouched forward. What would his pack say? Foolish? Brave? What would it be since he was fighting on his own? He thought this through as he leaped, hind quarters kicked into action. Onyx scythes clawed, aiming for the rear. If he got a good grip, once more, he would tear off a nice chunk and wander off with it.
Call me Relente, but I am known as Outline.
I have bore four flirtatious winters.
I consist of male organs.
I am a wretched form of a Hybrid.
My parents no longer exist.
My kin are yet to be discovered.
I do not have a companion.
My genes do not live in any form ... yet.
My desire is to live in honor of Head Warrior.
My appearance is some thing like this: Exterior frame was glazed with a masculine gift, muscular and thin and full of youth. Beasts' upper spinal course supported feathered appendages, folded neatly against his figure. Onyx instruments spindled from slim mitts, bushy multi-colored caudal hit just the deadly art they could do. His colors was of a ashe pigmentation, glazed with a thick creme underbelly to blend in hue within it. Charcoal hued spine roped down to his flicking caudal.
Roleplaying ::
Socializing; He jumped to his mitts and let out an excited yip, and caudal swayed back and forth in happiness. The spike tip on his feathery appendage ment nothing to him, he was always acknowledged by the others. He barked, and jumped, swerving after the chocolate wolf who had large feathery appendages too! Oral appendage lolled from his jowls and gave a quick lick to the wolfess. Then he backed up, waiting for her reaction.
Fighting; Quenched and starved; but he wasn't giving up the fight. It had barely started and brujo was already bored. Raspy snarl emitted from Relente's turn. He had a few tricks up his sleeve. Ash wolf groggily let out a snarl, and charged forward, head on. He planned on juking his target, and planned on getting a good aim. He swerved away from his aim, and leaped up, his destination: the throat. If he caught a good grip, he'd automatically tear down and let the wolf choke on his own blood. Foolish mutt ..
Hunting; Fore limbs hulked so close to the earth, a raspy snarl throated from his jowls. But he ducked lower. Gah, foolish. He waited for his prey to calm. When all was serene, he crouched forward. What would his pack say? Foolish? Brave? What would it be since he was fighting on his own? He thought this through as he leaped, hind quarters kicked into action. Onyx scythes clawed, aiming for the rear. If he got a good grip, once more, he would tear off a nice chunk and wander off with it.