08-19-2010, 03:31 AM
◦Character Name: Ralla
◦Character Birthdate (including year): Feb. 16, 2009
◦Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: White Wolf Luperci (Biologically a Grey wolf, but was born with a white melanin gene)
◦Gender: Female
◦A secondary form of contact (AIM, MSN, Y!M): redbeltrr@aol.com
◦Currently played characters: Primary, Ralla
◦How you found 'Souls: Recomended by the Top 50 Wolf RPG site
_______________________________________________________________
Darkest night, palest moon.
She was a flash beneath a firefly sky; a whisper of a cool breeze that one could maybe see if they looked hard enough. She was the mist of the moon; she was the moon.
And she ran faster than her sister in the sky across the land.
‘Why did I ever let those gypsies leave me here?’ she questioned herself. ‘I smelled the territory markers…I should’ve known I was too close…’
Her paws padded with dull thuds in the sand; unnaturally long legs kept the grit from catching her fur, and dark, forest green eyes searched endlessly for a sign of the wolves she smelled so profoundly around her.
She was deep in a place she should not be.
‘How strong are these wolves? Weaker than the Moon Tribe, or…?’
She wanted so desperately for them to be stronger, against all other thoughts. She wanted so desperately for them to notice her, against all other instincts.
With her snow-white pelt against the blue ocean and midnight, it wasn’t hard; she was a beacon shining from the shore.
Every crash of the waves upon pearl-fine sand echoed in her ears as she strained to hear any trace or sign of the territory’s guardians.
She was scared of their rejection if they noticed just how deep she was…if they saw how unusual she was…
The crescent moon brand on her forehead mirrored the one in the sky, and she wished harder than anything to be as certain of her thoughts and decisions as the moon above was of its cycles.
Unwavering…
Without pause for thought…
Without need to defend or justify why it waxed and waned.
She kept running and running and running, but the territory markers remained strong; an end without sight with no safety of boundaries to protect her.
Winded from her flight, she stood on a sandy outcrop a few miles from where she had been dropped off by the sea-faring luperci, and she looked to the moon above.
With her nose upraised and eyes closed, she howled a long, soft note that was accented by the crash of a wave.
She was tired of running, without peace of mind, without assurance of guidance…
So she sang to a moon that could not give anything but silence.
◦Character Birthdate (including year): Feb. 16, 2009
◦Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: White Wolf Luperci (Biologically a Grey wolf, but was born with a white melanin gene)
◦Gender: Female
◦A secondary form of contact (AIM, MSN, Y!M): redbeltrr@aol.com
◦Currently played characters: Primary, Ralla
◦How you found 'Souls: Recomended by the Top 50 Wolf RPG site
_______________________________________________________________
Darkest night, palest moon.
She was a flash beneath a firefly sky; a whisper of a cool breeze that one could maybe see if they looked hard enough. She was the mist of the moon; she was the moon.
And she ran faster than her sister in the sky across the land.
‘Why did I ever let those gypsies leave me here?’ she questioned herself. ‘I smelled the territory markers…I should’ve known I was too close…’
Her paws padded with dull thuds in the sand; unnaturally long legs kept the grit from catching her fur, and dark, forest green eyes searched endlessly for a sign of the wolves she smelled so profoundly around her.
She was deep in a place she should not be.
‘How strong are these wolves? Weaker than the Moon Tribe, or…?’
She wanted so desperately for them to be stronger, against all other thoughts. She wanted so desperately for them to notice her, against all other instincts.
With her snow-white pelt against the blue ocean and midnight, it wasn’t hard; she was a beacon shining from the shore.
Every crash of the waves upon pearl-fine sand echoed in her ears as she strained to hear any trace or sign of the territory’s guardians.
She was scared of their rejection if they noticed just how deep she was…if they saw how unusual she was…
The crescent moon brand on her forehead mirrored the one in the sky, and she wished harder than anything to be as certain of her thoughts and decisions as the moon above was of its cycles.
Unwavering…
Without pause for thought…
Without need to defend or justify why it waxed and waned.
She kept running and running and running, but the territory markers remained strong; an end without sight with no safety of boundaries to protect her.
Winded from her flight, she stood on a sandy outcrop a few miles from where she had been dropped off by the sea-faring luperci, and she looked to the moon above.
With her nose upraised and eyes closed, she howled a long, soft note that was accented by the crash of a wave.
She was tired of running, without peace of mind, without assurance of guidance…
So she sang to a moon that could not give anything but silence.