Post by trill on May 3, 2010 15:13:41 GMT -5
º ßasics º
OOC Name/Nickname: Ion (E-on)
Calling:Legion
Age:3 Winters
Gender:Male
Species/Breed:Common Wolf
º I §ee you £ooking at me º
Pelt/Hair color and length:Mainly dark grey and sable though the pelt does have some white and black patches mixed in. Legions pelt is extrodinarily thick.
Eye color:Pale yellow, almost white at times
Build (height, weight, overall structure):37in. in hight. 85 lbs. in weight Muscled.
Detailed Description (or picture):w0lle.deviantart.com/art/Grey-Wolf-78593800
º The þast Molds Who We BecØme º
History: Ever since Legion was a pup he had a strong will and didn't willingly take orders. He was pushed out of his birth pack at a young age, under one full year span. And ever since then he's been roaming the lands as a loaner.
Personality:Legion is hot headed at times, acting before he knows the full story. He doens't really let anyone inside his head never mind his heart. He hasn't really expearianced compatability with his soul and hasn't been able to open up to anyone.
º †here's No Place £ike Home º
Parents:Both dead
Siblings:None
Other Family:None
Friends:None as of yet
Half of the Island Character Resides:East
Group:Loner
Rank:Loner
º Prove ¥ourself º
Where did you find us?Proboards.com
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RPG Sample: The moon was in full bloom, washing the forest land in silver. It was the time of night where life was suspended, unclear if it was reality or a dream sphere.. The night birds were singing, the hoot of stark white owls echoing threw the air. And black, soaring bats glided on the wind currents swooping up unseen insects.
As if to punctuate the nightly world a pearcing how shattered into the sky. The call was a mixture of fearce power and challenge. But also on the dying end of the last note there was the bray of lonlyness.
The owner of the long lone howl was a large male wolf. His huge paws were splayed upon a rocky out crop that was jutting out of the earth. His muscled body was thickly furred with stone, obdisian, sable and cloudy shades. His head was thrown back, his neck and regal muzzle striking a picture. When the last lyrics of his call whispered from his lips his head owered and his eyes oepned.
They were peculiar eyes. When the warm rays of the days dun shinned upon them they were the pastel yellow; resembling that of powdered butter cups. But it was the night thta caught others to stiar into the pools. The silver rays of the moon reflected upon his citrice eyes and washed away the color till they were vibrant white. And at times they reflected back to the moon and shinned irridecent silver.
Can't wait to play with him!