Character Name: Henratha Gyrkin (Jeer-kin)
Character Birthdate (including year): January 8, 2007
Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci : Luperci (ortus)
Gender: Male
Your e-mail: birdman.pruitt@gmail.com
A secondary form of contact (AIM, MSN, Y!M): Bird Man (MSN)
How did you learn/hear about 'Souls?: A friend of mine by the name of Miyu ^_^
The tall male sighed, shaking his thick brown, white flecked pelt free of the chilly water that now covered it. "I knew it was going to be deeper than I thought, and what did I do? I tried to cross it anyway," the male scolded himself, as he padded away from the edge of the stream he had just swum across. Shaking his head, he attempted to somehow soothe the feeling of embarrassment he felt, despite the fact that no one was really around to see him at present. Eventually, he raised his gaze to scan the landscape he had just entered. His striking, gooseberry green eyes were now easily visible. Inhaling deeply, the wolf, named Henratha by his late parents, did his best to restrain the mixture of emotions welling up within him. Whose lands had he wandered into? The breeze gusting forth from the inner depths of the forest before him carried with it the very faint scents of others of his kind.
"I suppose I should announce myself," Rath yet again thought out loud. He was
unsure whether to remain in his current, lupus form, or to shift into his optime form. Having only once before encountered a pack in his travels, his understanding of pack etiquette was limited. Over and over he kept repeating to himself the rules he had learned in his puphood. Don't be rude. Respect your elders; and don't speak unless spoken too. Even his limited understanding of proper social etiquette told him that those rules were probably reserved for pups in order to teach them right from wrong, but they were his only reference point.
"Well, here I go, I guess." Henratha did his best to encourage himself, even going so far as to allow his limp tail to wag a couple times. Hopefully he would make a good first impression. After his final pep-talk, the apprehensive wolf reared his head skyward and loosed a long, melodic howl. He held his cry for about four seconds before finally allowing the sound to die down. Now all that he had left to do, was wait.
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Slaying the Dreamer
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He was dozing, as usual, when something interrupted his cozy slumber. Slay lifted his muzzle, tilting his head curiously at the sound of the howl, as he let a yawn escape. It wasn't a voice he recognized... With a wolfish grin, he sprang to his paws, scrabbling across the hard floor of the church. He had never gotten the chance to welcome a newcomer before! Cwmfen and Haku and Firefly were always patrolling the borders, having all the fun. He would have to race to beat them there!
As the big arctic male padded through the snowy packlands, he wondered if he should let Cercelee know where he was going. As their leader, she would be the one with the final say whether this unfamiliar fellow was to be admitted... but it wasn't as though she had ever said "no" before, and besides, he had been promoted high enough to accept new packmates. It was rare for Slay to like responsibility - ironic for one with a mate, the co-rank of Head Hunter, and a position almost on the council - but he had finally come to terms with where he was. It was pleasant, knowing that he was in the right place at the right time. He didn't have the need to wander anymore... and besides, this place had tied him down so securely, he couldn't abandon it if he tried.
"And here we are, mate. What brings you to the lands of Dahlia de Mai?" Now that he was standing before the stranger, Slay grew serious, still. His pale ice-blue eyes carefully studied the male, trying to gauge what sort of wolf he would be. This fellow had strangely intense green eyes... but his dusky fur was sticking up as though it had just been wet - yup, he smelled like the stream. Slay snorted, finding the overall effect nonthreatening. He could never stay serious for long, especially not when he was in love...
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
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Rath inhaled deeply as a large black and white wolf padded up to him across the snowy landscape. Doing his best to remember his manners, he allowed his tassle to hang almost limp, even tucking it ever so slightly. His ears were tilted backwards at a forty five degree angle with his skull. 'So that's who rules this land' he thought to himself. Allowing his gleaming green gaze to slowly travel to the large male's paws, he cleared his throat before responding, "I would like to join your pack...Dahlia de Mai was it?" He paused briefly before continuing. His apprehensions were slowly disappearing now that he had been greeted by this, seemingly friendly male. Rath couldn't help but glance at his fur as he noticed the other male looking at him. He chuckled slightly at the sight of his shaggy coat standing on end in most places. Usually it would lie right back down after he shook it, but he guessed the cold air had semi-solidified the water, making him look like a walking pin-cushion.
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Slaying the Dreamer
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A big grin crossed his features, lighting up his ebony-marked muzzle. "Yes, that's right! My name's Slay, I'm the Head Hunter." He let his black-dipped tail wave a friendly tempo behind him, drawing several paces closer to the polite, apprehensive wolf. He didn't seem shy, perchance, merely painstakingly formal. A little like their third-in-command, Cwmfen. Slay plopped onto his haunches into the snow, still rejecting the formality this situation required. After all the goings-on of late -- the missing puppies, Svara's crazy mother showing up, Haku's illegitimate daughters making tension just by being here, the several fights that had broken out at the borders -- it was a breath of fresh air to merely relax in the cool March weather. It had rained last night, but the snow was not all melted away yet. Spring was trying to make an appearance, but it was still too soon to see the grass yet. The arctic male exhaled pleasantly, letting his pale eyes flutter closed for a moment, before turning back to Rath.
"All right then, tell me a little about yourself, stranger. Where do you hail from? What skills can you offer us?"
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
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Rath smiled and managed to raise his gaze and actually make eye contact with the male. "I'm glad to meet you, Slay. My name is Henratha Gyrkin, but you may call me Rath if you wish. I answer to both. I come from the mountains several miles south of here. I believe they are called the Appalachians. I've been wandering for about six months in search of a place to settle down and your packlands seemed quite lovely. I'm a musician, and a woodworker of sorts. I make instruments and I have been taught through much observation and practice with my late father, rest his soul, how to use various wood carving and shaping tools, although I'm afraid I do not have any of my own at present. I could not carry all of them with me, so I left them at the old, ramshackle house I used to call home." Rath remained standing as he spoke, not yet comfortable enough to sit down and risk offending the obviously high-ranking wolf sitting down in front of him. Instead, he shook his pelt once more, although this time with more vigor. THe small ice crystals that had clung to his pelt, making his fur stand out like a porcupine, quickly broke and flung themselves in random directions. "I hope you found my brief little story informative. Sorry if any of that ice gets on you. I simply couldn't stand having my fur stand on end all over my body like that, any longer. The tingling feeling that it creates is really unpleasant," he chuckled light heartedly, his mood now decently relaxed. Slay was obviously friendly, there was no need for him to be so rigid and serious about everything anymore.
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Slaying the Dreamer
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Henratha Gyrkin, eh? Not anyone he'd had the fortune of crossing paths with before. He seemed to be an upright sort of fellow, too - just the sort of comrade the pack could use right about now. Slay nodded appreciatively as Rath made the effort to make eye contact, letting his white-tipped ears fall back to a casual angle as he listened attentively to the standing male.
"Well then, Rath, it seems as though your wandering days have come to an end. This place is a great one to settle down... Our packlands encompass a stretch of the coastline, a copse of forest, wide fields, and two old human towns, Berwick and Wolfville. There's all different kinds of prey, and all manner of wolves who call it home." Slay waggled his eyebrows enticingly, letting a whiskery grin spread on his muzzle. He was one of the founding members of Dahlia de Mai, when almost a full year ago he had stumbled into the field of flowers, meeting Cercelee and Colibri Soul. It was strangely poetic for him to be the one welcoming in a wayfarer, when he had been the stray in this very spot, so long ago. When the snows melted... it would once again look like a paradise.
"You would do well to seek out our Mew Sadira," he added offhandedly. "She might have the tools you seek. As I understand it, she carved her own guitar." The big arctic male watched bemusedly as Rath struggled to free his thick pelt of the ice crystals that plagued him. "Heheh, and don't think I don't know about having frozen fur. Why, just last month I fell through the ice atop the frozen sea -- my whole pelt was frozen solid! I had to be taken to the clinic and be buried beneath blankets just to thaw out..." He shook his head, grumbling about the accidental incident. If Hanna hadn't come along, he and Ril'o both would have been in pretty big trouble, due to the frigid cold. It was a welcome relief that March seemed to be lessening its icy grip on their coastline.
Oh, right. "Ah, there's something I should warn you though, mate -- you're not from here, like I was, so you probably don't know. Ever heard of the coyote pack, Inferni? Steer clear of 'em at all costs. We lost several of our wolves to them. Coyotes hate wolves, especially our pack since our borders are near." His pale eyes darkened momentarily. Last summer there had been a pack war... He had refused to fight, and as a result, Cercelee was injured. He thought it only fair to warn Rath that not all was perfect in this peaceful pack.
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
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Hey, welcome to 'Souls. You've just joined the craziest bunch of wolf roleplayers on the vast internet. If you haven't done so already, you should check out the rp guide for detailed information about our werewolves and other general role playing information. Now that you're accepted, you need to do two things:
___1. Make your first IC post within five days.
___2. Update your profile with a bit of background information on your character. You can also start saving up points toward titles and icons and cool stuff. Check out the Open Threads and Thread Requests forum for people looking to roleplay. You can post random out of character chat in the OOC Garbage with us, too. |
Rath couldn't help but allow his bushy brown tail to wag a few times in a combination of relief and excitement. He listened carefully to everything the black and white male said to him. "Human towns? Really? I'll have to go check look around and see if I can find a place to set up shop." His somewhat low pitched, tenor-like voice held a tone of eagerness that could have likened him to a pup who had just been told he could go out on a little exploratory adventure. Turning once again to Slay, he smiled and gave a small, thankful bow, "Thank you very much, Slay. I promise I'll do my absolute best to help the pack in any way I can." He turned to pad off into the packlands of Dahlia de Mai only to stop and look back over his shoulder with an embarrassed grin on his face, his pointed ears falling back in a sheepish manner. "I just remember...I don't know where I'm going. Any chance you would be willing to show me where the town is?" He hated to admit it, but his natural sense of direction was quite out of practice and he had the unfortunate tendency to get lost. It would definitely take him time to get used to being part of a pack. Hopefully his social ignorance wouldn't get him into too much trouble.
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