10-28-2010, 05:28 PM
* Character Name: Primrose aka "Prim"
* Character Birthdate (including year): 5 months (wolf age) 8 years (human). December 17th 2002 if going by human years
* Luperci: No
* Species: Vancouver Island Wolf
* Gender: female
* A secondary form of contact: asears26@yahoo.com
* How you found 'Souls: Google : google
* Initial post:
Prim was hungry. She had been walking since sunrise and all she had managed to catch was possibly fleas. Her bony rump flopped into the ground and a hind leg scratched her left ear as if under its own volition. She'd settle for a beetle right now...ANYTHING....to make the gnawing emptiness in her stomach stop.
You wouldn’t be so hungry if you hadn’t left. Even with the pack you’d at least have the bones to gnaw on.
Prim’s mouth begins to water and a tiny whine escapes her muzzle before she has the time to hold it back.
Look at you! Whining over dried up bones. Stop being such a puppy!
It feels like Prim has been whining and cringing her entire short life. Born the runt of a small litter in the dead of winter to what was a barely a pack; Prim had always just managed to scrape by. Ever since her 5 senses first unfolded from infant to puppy Prim knew something was not…right about her. Oh physically she was normal- besides, perhaps, being on the scrawny side. But she was white. White white. From the tip of her quivering nose to the final tuft of her tail not a hint or speck of brown, black or gray marred her pelt. Her eyes faded from a newborn cloudy blue to a shade of lavender so light you had to practically had to stand muzzle-to-muzzle with her to see where they iris stopped. That’s when the bullying had started. It didn’t help case either idle threats and curses made to her other bullying litter mates had an eerie way of coming true. Or when her dreams had the subtle ring of truth to them. Prim had learned at an early age to keep her jaw tightly locked. The final straw had been when her oldest brother Rory, the pride of the litter, had taken ill with a strange sickness. The elders had given him different plants to try and help him vomit out the darkness but Prim had one of the crystallized moments when she saw that it was pointless-he would die within the hour…and that’s exactly what she said before she came back to herself. When her prediction turned out to be true even her mother turned on her, yellow eyes wild with grief and sadness, and was at the front of the pack that chased her out of their territory.
After the pure terror of being hunted by her family seeped out of her lanky limbs Prim did the one thing she could do-she walked. She had been on her own for about 3 weeks now and with winter finally turning it’s apathetic eye onto the northern hemisphere Prim knew her options were slowly dwindling. She had to find a home and fast.
Prim was just beginning to scent around in hopes a baby bird had fallen from its nest, when the unmistakeable smell of wolves touched her nose. She had smelled this scent before, usually old and stale, and had tucked tale and scampered the other direction as quickly as her over-sized paws would carry her. But something in it smelled different to her. Something the tugged her paws forward instead of away. She kept her tail low and her large ear swiveled around in a half-cocked fashion. Her eyes drank in the sounds and smells of the wood when the fur on the ridge of her spine prickled and she knew without seeing that something was out there. Watching her.
* Character Birthdate (including year): 5 months (wolf age) 8 years (human). December 17th 2002 if going by human years
* Luperci: No
* Species: Vancouver Island Wolf
* Gender: female
* A secondary form of contact: asears26@yahoo.com
* How you found 'Souls: Google : google
* Initial post:
Prim was hungry. She had been walking since sunrise and all she had managed to catch was possibly fleas. Her bony rump flopped into the ground and a hind leg scratched her left ear as if under its own volition. She'd settle for a beetle right now...ANYTHING....to make the gnawing emptiness in her stomach stop.
You wouldn’t be so hungry if you hadn’t left. Even with the pack you’d at least have the bones to gnaw on.
Prim’s mouth begins to water and a tiny whine escapes her muzzle before she has the time to hold it back.
Look at you! Whining over dried up bones. Stop being such a puppy!
It feels like Prim has been whining and cringing her entire short life. Born the runt of a small litter in the dead of winter to what was a barely a pack; Prim had always just managed to scrape by. Ever since her 5 senses first unfolded from infant to puppy Prim knew something was not…right about her. Oh physically she was normal- besides, perhaps, being on the scrawny side. But she was white. White white. From the tip of her quivering nose to the final tuft of her tail not a hint or speck of brown, black or gray marred her pelt. Her eyes faded from a newborn cloudy blue to a shade of lavender so light you had to practically had to stand muzzle-to-muzzle with her to see where they iris stopped. That’s when the bullying had started. It didn’t help case either idle threats and curses made to her other bullying litter mates had an eerie way of coming true. Or when her dreams had the subtle ring of truth to them. Prim had learned at an early age to keep her jaw tightly locked. The final straw had been when her oldest brother Rory, the pride of the litter, had taken ill with a strange sickness. The elders had given him different plants to try and help him vomit out the darkness but Prim had one of the crystallized moments when she saw that it was pointless-he would die within the hour…and that’s exactly what she said before she came back to herself. When her prediction turned out to be true even her mother turned on her, yellow eyes wild with grief and sadness, and was at the front of the pack that chased her out of their territory.
After the pure terror of being hunted by her family seeped out of her lanky limbs Prim did the one thing she could do-she walked. She had been on her own for about 3 weeks now and with winter finally turning it’s apathetic eye onto the northern hemisphere Prim knew her options were slowly dwindling. She had to find a home and fast.
Prim was just beginning to scent around in hopes a baby bird had fallen from its nest, when the unmistakeable smell of wolves touched her nose. She had smelled this scent before, usually old and stale, and had tucked tale and scampered the other direction as quickly as her over-sized paws would carry her. But something in it smelled different to her. Something the tugged her paws forward instead of away. She kept her tail low and her large ear swiveled around in a half-cocked fashion. Her eyes drank in the sounds and smells of the wood when the fur on the ridge of her spine prickled and she knew without seeing that something was out there. Watching her.
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