10-10-2009, 03:07 AM
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1. Character Name: Armistice Shanti
2. Character Birthdate (including year): 07/22/07
3. Regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci Ortus
4. Species: Canis rufus ortus (50% red wolf luperci) / Canis latrans (50% coyote)
5. Gender: Male
6. Secondary form of contact (AIM): falselytried
7. How you found 'Souls: Friends on WWS - I give Akumu the most credit.
8. Initial post:
1. Character Name: Armistice Shanti
2. Character Birthdate (including year): 07/22/07
3. Regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci Ortus
4. Species: Canis rufus ortus (50% red wolf luperci) / Canis latrans (50% coyote)
5. Gender: Male
6. Secondary form of contact (AIM): falselytried
7. How you found 'Souls: Friends on WWS - I give Akumu the most credit.
8. Initial post:
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A disjointed lope carried Armistice slowly across a rocky path, an occasional wince flicking across his face as he favored his right forepaw. The thick scent of coyotes lured him in the right direction, but if not for that, the young hybrid would have considered himself quite lost. The trees looked completely unfamiliar to him, their thickness both in girth and placement was rather unlike any scenery he'd called home before now. But was this home? He had only been separated from his traveling companion for just under a fortnight, and was sure a reunion was in store, so the decision to settle down didn't seem like one he could make on his own. All the same, his recent fight with a blackberry brier had left his feet worse for the wear, and this combined with the familiar scent of his own species felt like a good enough reason to stop.
Nose pointed toward the air, Armistice inhaled short puffs of air as he looked around. Yes, this would do it. The border stretched out before him looked less than friendly, and rather than walk senselessly into the heart of what could very well be an aggressive set of coyotes, he chose to remain silently in place next to the base of a pine. It was only a matter of time before one of the residents happened by, and he certainly wasn't about to go looking for them himself. Circling on the spot for a moment, he curled his dusty body up against one of the tree's roots, resting his head tenderly on top of it, and fixing his leafy green eyes on the border before him. It was midday, nearing the evening, and an afternoon doze sounded appealing. Waiting patiently, his eyelids slipped together more and more frequently - vigilance was obviously not at the top of Armistice's list.