Character Name: Michael Northman
Birthdate: March 4th, 2009
Species: Luperci- Canis lupus ortus
Gender: Male
Secondary contact: I can be contacted on the IM available on gmail.
Currently played characters: This is my first.
How I found Souls: Top 50 wolf RPGs Google search.
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Michael had travelled a long way to escape the desolation of Boston. With its bridges, subways, and some of the town resting on islands, it was slowly starting to sink. Michael still remembered when he saw the Green Monster come crumbling onto the overgrown field of Fenway Park, when he was merely a pup of just three months. That was shortly before he and his family escaped from the crumbling city of his ancestors. If only...
But that was in the past. His dame and sire had perished in Charles Town, and Michael himself was barely able to escape. That was three months ago. He came of age, alone, somewhere in the wilds of Maine. And now, here he was, standing on the borders of a veritable paradise in a post-apocalyptic world. He could smell canine all over the area. Maybe his lonely days were over. Shaking the full mane in his Secui form, the one he was most comfortable in, he raised a long muzzle to the moonlit sky and howled, calling for whatever might be here.
Welcome to 'Souls. Feel free to shoot me a PM if you have any questions. 
Geneva Stockholm's life had fallen into an almost familiar pattern that she found herself eager to return to. As the Whilom of Phoenix Valley, she assumed some of the duties that usually fell to the leadership within the pack. Some months ago, she herself had been a leader too, but she had suffered a fall, an injury, and a major fallout with her mate that had rendered her incapable of truly leading with the responsibility and strength a leader was supposed to have. Although Geneva was nowhere near ready to return to the life she had once known, it was comforting to be able to slip back into some older routines. The gray colored Whilom patrolled the borders, as she had when she had been the Savant of the pack, and felt that she was contributing and doing what she could to help keep her pack, her friends and her son, safe and secure.
She was in lupus form, treading quietly across the green, lush terrain. The warmth of the August sun across her shoulders was pleasant. The slight Whilom raised her head slightly, her ears tilting to listen for the source of the noise. It was obviously a call for her attention, or someone's attention anyway. Geneva was felt a slight thrill of excitement, something she had not felt for an exceptionally long time. She turned and was not disappointed when the form of a male greeted her olive colored eyes.
The gray colored female faltered for a moment. She was small boned and did not like the fact that he was in a much larger secui form made her wonder what his intentions might be. It did not mean that he meant to be a threat, but she had only come across those in secui form very few times, and those had not been pleasant times. Approaching with her head held high, she said to him, "You called? Are you looking for something, or someone?"
Michael lowered his ears half-mast and sunk a wolfen tail down as a grey Lupus female approached him. As an extra precaution, the Secui Luperci lowered his head to make himself seem smaller in this bulky form than the distinctly leaner Lupus. Almost pitch black fur rustled in the slight wind of an Atlantic breeze as almost puppy-blue eyes stared at the greeter... though not in the face! Taking a step forward with a giant paw reminiscient of a Labrador retriever, he lowered his body a bit more before speaking in a heavy New England accent.
Ma'am, I have travelled a long way for many months to find another pack. I came from Boston, my dame and sire raised me in the old halls of America. But Boston is sinking, and my parents are no longer alive. I have been alone. In short, ma'am, I am looking for a new pack to join, and this is amazing territory here.
The Luperci kept his form lowered, waiting for a response from the wolf, or potential entry into this prime territory.
I posted something for you in the Talents forum!
Geneva need not have feared; the black pelted stranger observed border etiquette by displaying all the proper respones to her presence. Geneva nodded to him as she listened to him speak his piece. It was always sad to lose one's original home and family. She rememberd when she had first found Nova Scotia, almost two years ago now, and had stumbled on to the land claimed by Crimson Dreams hoping for something similar. The black male seemed sincere, and was not doing anything that might hint at fouplay.
"Please stand up...What is your name?" Geneva was not one to stand on tradition, at least not most of the time. There was a time many months ago, when she had truly been a leader here, where such displays had made her embarrassed. However, now she could appreciate the sincerity behind them, and what they could tell her about the situation she would face at the borders during an interview. "My name is Geneva Stockholm; I am the Whilom here, a sort of advisor to the leader. I do have the authority to accept to this pack, Phoenix Valley, but I would like to learn a little more about you first."
He seemed like he would fit the bill for a new joiner, but in order to fulfill her duties to the greatest extent, she had to be hyperaware of any danger. Especially because there were two who depended on her for care right now, her son and Bindu, an injured girl she had found a while ago, she would keep an open mind and temper it with caution. "I'd been to Boston once before, when I was young," the gray Whilom said with a slight smile. "Although I lived most of my life in the runis of New York City, with my own family." How long ago had that been? Years and years, nearly half of her lifetime ago.
Found it. Thank you.
Almost instantly obeying his elder, not wanting much of a fight, he stood at his normal posture. His stout Secui body rested on unnaturally long legs. Grey tufts of fur rested between his toes--a claw was missing on the third toe and the soft pads had been hardened by months of walking on concrete and debris and glass. A prominent scar rested on his right shoulder, a thin white line standing in great contrast to his black pelt. His mouth parted as he spoke, revealing yellowed teeth, chipped in some spots from having to tear at cans and the occassional door.
My name is Michael Northman. My dame was Violet, my sire Derek. He was the son of two Arctic wolves kept in the zoo--Violet came from elsewhere.
The wolf spoke no more--useless information was sometimes untolerated. Ancient history, the lot of it. Useless. All that mattered was the here and now, the lack or abundance of food, the prospect or the disappointment of mates. That is what mattered to the male Luperci. His parents were dead, best to leave them that way. Michael continued to keep his ears at half-mast, even though the female seemed to be on more casual terms with him.
[This is short because I am sneaking in a little post from work!]
Geneva listened intently to what Michael had to say. It was a sad thing to have to leave one's family and history behind. However, it was obviously his desire to move forward and forge a new life, perhaps at Phoenix Valley. Geneva appreciated that he answered her questions honestly and succinctly; it made the process much smoother overall, she felt. He made his intentions clear enough, and so she proceeded without haste, sensing that he had been waiting a while for an opportunity like this.
"Here at Phoenix Valley, we operate a bit differently than traditional packs. We are a collection of Luperci and Lupus wolves, and we live in human structures as well as more traditional dens. We do keep our own livestock in the manner humans once did, although we also hunt for to feed ourselves." The Whilom hoped that this made sense to Michael. She was well aware that the Phoenix Valley lifestyle was not necessarily the norm, although packs nearby also lived with and implemented certain aspects of human life. Geneva had never kept livestock before, and it had seemed strange to her at first that the pack would protect prey animals, but they served their purpose, ultimately. "Do you think that you would be able to live in a community that way?"
Michael blinked, surprised. This was a more modern den--he had never seen that before. He tooks a small step back, not sure what to think about these wolves, living... to a degree... as the humans once did. A notion that did not particularly suit his fancy. Why emulate a species that had driven itself to extinction?
The Luperci mulled this over in his head for several minutes. Maybe it will turn out different--maybe these wolves won't make the same mistakes their predecessors made. But then again, maybe they will. Perhaps it is best to just leave them be, seek a more... simplistic... pack. But she did say that they had more traditional dens. They try to keep the old ways alive. Perhaps, one day, they will abandon the dwellings of humans. This put Michael's mind at ease, and he resumed a more relaxed posture.
Yes. The change will be different, but I would be a fool, and a coward, to not keep an open mind. And my sire didn't raise me to be coward.
[You are now free to post outside of this joining thread, as you are accepted. Welcome to PV! I'll ask to have you titled up and added to the ranks.]
Michael seemed hesitant as she told him about the Phoenix Valley way of life. It was certainly something that was not the norm. But at least she had provided him with adequate information. She did not want him to commit to something that he did not truly want. And conversely, she did not want him to disappear into the night without a word if he were to become part of the pack. As he mulled her words over, the Whilom studied his face. Eventually, he voiced his acceptance and the gray wolfess nodded.
"You are welcome to stay as part of Phoenix Valley, if you would like," the soft-voiced female said. "I have the authority to accept you as Loas, which is the beginning rank here. If you have a desire to move up in the ranks, then you can contribute to the pack in a number of ways. The leader here is Jefferson Soul, the Patriarch of Phoenix Valley. I would recommend that you meet him sometime, if you can." She thought that that cleared things up rather succinctly. Michael seemed like a straight to the point kind of creature, and so she would give him the courtesy of being straight to the point as well.
"Our borders are scent marked and extend to the coast. It is best to hunt in the Dampwoods or Sugarwoods, if you are hungry. Or, if you fish, you might try Mirror Lakes, twin lakes that are centrally located." Geneva remembered the pangs of hunger that had afflicted her as she searched for a pack, almost two years ago. Those memories were still easily accessible to the Whilom, and she was glad that she had progressed beyond those times. "If you have a need for me, or have questions, I dwell within the ranch house, which is not far from here." Geneva smiled at him, hoping that he would adjust well and find somewhere to rest and regroup. With a final nod to the new Loas, she turned and continued on her patrol.
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