Battered Beginnings

Sicarus de Ericeto · 03-22-2010, 02:57 AM

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Word Count: 339 Heyyy, welcome to 'Souls! I just wanted to let you know, Maned Wolves are of the genus Chrysocyon, which is distinct from Canis. Only members of Canis can shift here; if you would like, you can still play a Maned Wolf, though it will not be able to shift. Smile For alternatives, if you still wanted to place a Luperci, you could do a wolf, a coyote, virtually any dog, jackals, dingos... for a complete list, you can see here! Of course, only the still-living species are playable. ^^; Just let us know which you want to do (play a non-Luperci Maned Wolf, or a Luperci of some other species) and edit your first post, please? Big Grin Apologies for that. And also, I apologize in advance—Sicarus is kind of a gigantic jerk! D: I promise you I am nice, though! I'm Sie, it's good to meet you. XD Now, to end the longest OOC message everrrr... hehe.

In Character

The Dahlian male was, as usual, patrolling the borders. His injures were almost completely healed from the battle some weeks earlier; there was not so much as a limp in his step now. He had patrolled even when he was more injured—with their neighbors barking and yowling just across the forest, they could not rest. There was danger, there was always danger—Sicarus had to serve his Rosen, otherwise there would be severe trouble, not only for himself, but all of Dahlia.

The tawny-furred man had paced most of the afternoon away when a scent caught his nose, definitely unfamiliar. It did not carry the taint of Inferni. So far, Sicarus had been present for the acceptance of just one newcomer to the Dahlian pack, though others had certainly come since RJ had appeared on their doorstep. The two-legged man changed course absently, loathing he had to answer to the beckoning scent of a female—but it seemed his master, his alpha, was sympathetic to women; he allowed them in the midst of the pack and at times it seemed he even courted the sable-furred woman. All of it was disgusting to Sicarus, but he had learned to tone down his hatred somewhat, at least where Dahlians and potential Dahlians were concerned. They could not afford to lose potential membership at the cost of one wolf's misogyny.

The Charme made his way toward the russet-furred female, his fire-gold eyes sizing her up all the while. If he had been capable of sustaining attraction, perhaps she would have been pretty—after a little clean-up, of course. Her matted fur and thin body spoke of months spent alone, wandering the wild open expanses of the world. He had not been so different himself, not too long ago—months on the ship had made him bone-thin. When he'd finally stepped foot on land again, he almost forgot how to walk on it. “Can I help you?” he sniffed, crossing his arms and halting as he got within earshot of the woman.

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