09-24-2008, 10:45 PM
[html]Character Name: Regan de Morte
Character Birthdate: June 18th, 2006
Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci
Species: Coyote
Gender: Female
A secondary form of contact: mercytwisted (AIM)
How did you learn/hear about 'Souls?: Through a link on Wild Wolf Society a while back.
Character Birthdate: June 18th, 2006
Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci
Species: Coyote
Gender: Female
A secondary form of contact: mercytwisted (AIM)
How did you learn/hear about 'Souls?: Through a link on Wild Wolf Society a while back.
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It had been only last night when Regan made land on the coast with the small life boat her friends had given her off of the Pirate Ship Revenge. The ship that she had called home for almost a year of her life. She had made camp on the soft sands only to pack up and move further inland when morning came, sunny yet chilled. Her black form was a mar on the horizon as she walked steadily over meadows that turned from hills to trees. Her green dress, which had replaced her red shirt and jeans, was disheveled from sea air and from being crammed so long in her pack, and her curly black locks tried desperately to break free of a brightly colored elastic that had hard time keeping them at bay in the first place. She felt as if she was walking into a dream, green eyes unfocused as she fought between emotions of being sad at leaving behind friends and her life on the ship, or being excited for the new things to come of her life ahead. It was this dreamy behavior that caused Regan to become extremely clumsy, and almost instantaneously her foot seemed to find an upturned root of a rather mischievous oak tree, causing her to go stumbling forward, loose her grip on the large brown rucksack slung over her back, and subsequently causing its contents to scatter across the ground in a very precarious sort of way. “Merde!” Regan proclaimed quite vehemently, starting to list off more French profanity under her breath as she dropped down to her knees to start collecting her belongings off of the damp grass. She felt as if she might come to tears, the edges of her eyes glistening as she leaned back with her violin case in hand, checking to see if any damage had come to her most prized possession, or any other items she deemed very important. It seemed, so far, her first day in these new lands would prove to be an overcast one. Even the clouds seemed to think so as they gathered overhead.