Love before you fall.

Frodo Silvertongue · 02-20-2011, 07:48 AM

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OOC here! Woah, tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, please! Go steady on the newbie! I am sooo sorry for the very long and extreamly boring post, but I always get carried away and there's not much I can do about it! Don't worry about matching my post length, just go ahead and post like a tenth of the amount or whatever- I really don't mind Smile I also don't care who replies- obviously I would like the leader to reply at some point but I would be just as happy with a simple pack member. Also, you might notice I'm a big Lord Of The Rings fan (if nobody knows what this is, it's a epic movie/book series!), so just bare with me on the many refrences and use of inspiration from the film/book! And ok, I will stop rambling now.

Character Name: Frodo Silvertongue

Character Birthdate (including year): 2010, feb. 2nd.

Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci

Species: (mother; Mexican Wolf ) X (father; Tundra Wolf x Gray wolf) mix.

Gender: Male.

Currently played characters: Frodo Silvertongue.

How you found 'Souls: Reccomended here by sister.

WC: 1200+

Initial post:

The young man arched his back, whooping in joy as the horse ran beneath him at a fast, unpredictable pace. He held tight on to the thick barrel-like body of the creature
with strong, lean legs, and, in his Optime form, he rode bareback without a bridle to hold on to. Fur-covered fingers held on to the mane of his horse with supreme strength,
the adolescent riding freely and by basic balance and practice. Finally he gave into his daring nature and let go, fingers sprawled out wards as he outstretched his arms,
breeze flying past him as his horse - and loyal friend - sped up from the energetic canter and burst into another gear, galloping along the grass.

At once he unhooked his bow from around a taut shoulder, fingers recognising the touch of the polished wood and grasping the bow in a familiar position, Frodo bringing a
matching, feather covered arrow from his quiver with his free paw and launching it onto the bow, before pulling the string back so it was level with his chin. Just as he had done so
many times before, Mr Silvertongue locked onto the target he had been chasing with both alluring, emerald orbs, signalling his horse with a short squeeze that it was time to speed
up. Strider, the pale grey equine, who was so used to his masters gentle commands, sped up at once, thrusting his head down and shifting his long pillars into a much faster
gallop. The grey Arab, complete with an almost white coat and soft pink muzzle, had been with Frodo as a yearling of one years of age; he was now two years old and still growing.
Yet, the horse was perfect for the young Luperci's needs, and had been trained accordingly to match his master with both love and harsh training.

The year old Mexican Wolf mix, who could of been in his late teens if a human, gave another- yet this time quite silent- whoop and levelled his bow in the direction of the Buck rabbit
they had been chasing for about ten minuets now. The young loner had made a rule for himself; never hunt Doe, only Bucks. This was a hunting rule that he had learned from his
father as a young boy, and the reason for the rule was simple: Doe usually had kits to take care of, or they would soon be able to produce more rabbits. Bucks on the other hand
were overpopulating if not dealt with and eaten, so those were the ones he hunted. Yet when it came to deer, he only hunted lone Bucks. To hunt the herd, would be only an act of
desperation, for he felt uncomfortable with killing a member of the group- an act which would leave the others that lived there traumatised. He thought of a herd as a pack, and only
once had he killed a doe among others.

Then came the precise moment in which he sprang, pulling the arrow back and letting it explode from the bow, the instrument hurtling and spinning towards the running Buck with
suprising accuracy, striking the rabbit in the very location Frodo had targeted- it's chest. No suffering came from the poor creature as it fell to the ground silently, twitching for a
moment or two before falling still.

At once Frodo gave way to a much deserved grin, as he pushed downwards with his 'hands' on to the shoulders of Strider, and dismounted quickly, hauling himself over the horse
elegantly. At that point it became clear that the wolf was indeed quite small- his mature and learned face spoke of wisdom yet his body showed a different matter. Anyone who was
watching would now predict he was an average sized adult- when the reality was he was a still growing teen. The black and ginger Canis had seen, in truth, a lot that no other
had seen in the short year he had been alive, and by looking into his eyes one could maybe tell that behind the kind, open, happy mask lay a traumatised boy. But hope was not
lost. He was steadily recovering from what he had been through as a pup and was coming out as a fine young man, the country bumpkin now handsome and a wolf of many
abilities, including a way of getting to others and cheering them up.

His fur was like a patchwork coat, black in base colour but streaked in golden and striking ginger. Most of his face except for his muzzle was a dazzling auburn colour- his muzzle
was the darkest of blacks and the contrast was quite beautiful. As he shouldered his bow once more and ran a gentle hand through his ginger locks that were covered with
flowers and feathers that had been tied there as reminders of his homeland, his chiselled, slender face erupted into another grin. A few short footsteps later and he had picked up
his kill and plucked the arrow from its heart- which was when he proceeded to call to his horse and set up 'camp', roasting his dinner over a fire and setting a log down to sit on,
as he sang a song to both himself and his loyal friend.

"Home is behind, the world ahead.
And there are many paths to tread.
Through shadow, to the edge of night.
Until the stars are all alight-"

He stopped short, as Strider gave a neigh and gestured with his head to a fence that they had been sitting by all along. Frodo's mouth dropped open in sudden suprise
as he realised that they had found the place they had been looking for all this time- for two months they had been searching for this famous pack where they both would be
suited. He gave a long sigh before smiling widely, jumping up in the air and giving a series of delighted shouts. He then gave a long howl and ran to his horse, his brother, his
faithful companion, and hugged him tightly, locking chests with the stallion.

"I can't believe this!" he cried, thickly accented country chords echoing around him. "We've found it, me lad! Well, rather, you found
it, aint ya?"

He plonked his rump back down and continued poking his cooking meal with a brown stick. It was now quite late- the moon was up and so he knew that most wolves would be
out hunting at this time. He was just outside the entrance to the pack, so immediately decided he would call to the leader in the morning. But, if someone decided to approach him
now, it would be fine with him. After all, he had a large Buck that he would be delighted to share with anyone, and of course with all the racket and noise, among with the smell
of freshly cooking meat, he doubted anyone would just pass him by until morning. But, now he sat back on his log, still poking the rabbit and inhaling its scent with a sensitive
nose. Frodo then began to finish his song, for he loved to sing and his voice often comforted him when he was quite alone- apart from Strider of course.

"Mist and shadow.
Cloud and shade.
All shall Fade.
All shall... fade"

His gentle, interesting voice echoed around him as he continued to wait for his outcome.

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