2. Character Birthdate (including year): March 18, 2008.
3. Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci Verto.
4. Gender: Male.
5. Your e-mail: econd.penguin@yahoo.com">second.penguin@yahoo.com
6. A secondary form of contact (AIM, MSN, Y!M): AIM!: stripedmokapi
7. How did you learn/hear about 'Souls?: James!
595 words.
There was a certain sense of allure that surrounded the forest; the trees had began exchanging the normally verdant hue of their leaves for more earthen tones, though as the black and white creature made his way across the leaf-littered loam numerous scarlet patches were glimpsed out of the corners of his amber eyes. While the border collie wasn't too keen on being in such enclosed terrain- his younger months had been spent on open farm land- he did his best to appreciate the explosion of color that was ravishing the flora and take it with a grain of proverbial salt. This was, after all, the borders of the territory that was he hoping to have the fortune of calling home. Though he had been in Souls land for only a few weeks and the extent of the opinions he had gleaned were minimal at best, he had heard that they were more...rustic, as things went, and in all honesty he had been somewhat pining for his previous live-in space, which had been little more than a run-down barn- but still, the differences were small in his eyes, at least for now. He was as wary towards his prospective new pack as they would be of him, without doubt, but with any luck at all that skepticism would fade with time. Wheat and trust both take a full season to grow, of course.
He was not large, as canids go, and the added weight of the black bag that was slung across his ebony back only gave him a more hunched appearance, though its contents were by no means heavy. The majority of his fur blended in with the pack, though it was considerably more lustrous and flawless in hue. His thickly feathered tail was drawn along behind him like a playful flag, swinging side to side in time with his jaunty walk. He had a sprightly edge to his step, and this same sort of lightheartedness radiated from his warm eyes as well, their sienna depths well-glazed and bright with health and youth. His folded ears were pricked with a sort of mild curiosity and though the backpack was held in place by a clip that connected at the center of his breast, he still managed to swing his weight in order to better see what lay to his left or right, or behind him, from where he had just came. He was half-hoping that someone would stumble upon him, or he upon them, for howling was not exactly his strong suit- though a thin amount of lupine blood flowed through his veins, his howls were not comparable in beauty or intensity to that of a wolf. While he was lacking embarrassment of the subject, it would likely take several irritating tries for him to grate out a sound reminiscent of a pup's first meager attempt to alert any of the current pack members to his presence- and he did not want to tarry for too long on any foreign borders for fear that the repercussion would be disastrous. While he of a confident spirit, he was not stupid.
Coming to a hesitant halt in a small grove of conifers, the young male shifted his weight, shrugging one shoulder and drawing up a white paw as to realign the weight of the pack. Black-freckled ears twitching to draw in the sounds that flitted past him, Kvæsir heaved a sigh before lifting up his muzzle and letting out a series of barks, their lengths and pitches varied, but their instinctive meaning the same.