Post by thornclaw on Jul 20, 2011 13:18:47 GMT -5
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. : ~ Essentials ~ : .
Name: ThornClaw
Pronounciation: Thorn-Claw
Age: Around 1 year
Date of Birth: Unkown
Gender: Male
Personality: ThornClaw is hard to understand. He enjoys causing pain and trouble, making him have a sadistic theme to him. He stands up for his belifs and friends with to much pride to back down. He loves fighting and its the only thing he is good at; so he thinks. He is hard to get along with and become friends but extremly loyal and brave. He is also difficult to control and only grand alpha's can control him. He is known to be the muscles and intergator. He is great to be an ally with and usually tries to be friendly but doesn't like pups or clingy wolves.
. : ~ Appearance ~ : .
Pelt Color: ThornClaw's pelt color is based white underneath with diffrent shades of brown and grey on the uppercoat.
Eye Color: Bright lime green orbs.
Distinguishing Marks: Scars all over, mainly on his shoulders and face.
. : ~ History ~ : .
Mother: Unkown
Father: Unkown
Siblings: None
Other Relations: Unkown
Pups: Decreased
SpiritBonds:
Other packs: Rouge
Courts/Mates: Looking
Biography:
ThornClaw doesn't know much of his past. He remembers hearing his mother panting and always alert, never leaving him from her sight. He can't remember his farther or any other wolves; just his mother and him. He was about a couple months old, able to walk and watch his mother on hunting trips. One night his mother wouldn't stop running and kept going, he would whine for her to stop but she didn't.... Just kept looking forward and wincing. It was almost morning and they left at dusk yesterday and she hasen't stopped. With ThornClaw's scruff in her maw he could feel her drool spitting out of her mouth into his pelt. He started crying, watching his mother die from exhausting. The last thought about her was falling in the white snow, her white pelt blending in with and her last few pants until death fell upon her.
He than carried on his journey alone. Hunting by himself younger than 1 year and watching other creatures (including wolves) fight. He taught himself how to handle situations, herbs, hunting and defending. All those nights and days he just praticed killing and fighting, he had nothing else to do.
He found a gorgeous younger wolf, pure black with sparking blue eyes and fell in love with her right away. He knew she was in a pack and she would never be his. He decided to kidnap her; the pack was tiny and had a schedule. For a few nights he watched their moves and figured a small break point where he could get her. It was simple and easy; taking her right out of the den when she was unguarded. He ran and didn't stop, feeling Noir (the she-wolf's name) crying and flailing about. After a few nights of travelling he decided to stop and take care of Noir. He believed that Noir finally fell in love with him after the pups were born. The two thought of making a pack but never came to the full conculsion. About a few months later when the pups were born a massive storm hit in and all the pups froze to death. Noir was devestated and went into misery; she wouldn't eat or drink but just lied in the den. She died a few days after, leaving ThornClaw alone again. Until he fell upon Amaranth Wolves...
. : ~ Before Amaranth ~ : .
Character Names: ThornClaw
Packs: Rouge
Ranks:
Courts/Mates: Noir
Pups: Decreased
. : ~ Behind the Fur - Human Info ~ : .
Name: Megan
Age: 15
Birthday: Feb. 27
Gender: Female
Contact E-mail: Thorn_Claw@hotmail.com
Contact Number: .....
Location: Canada
Time Zone:
. : ~ Tieing up Loose Ends ~ : .
How did you find Amaranth?
From an old friend.
Why do you want to be a Member of Amaranth?
I want to be a member since I'm an advanced RPer and looking for a good site that will remain active and intresting. This seems like a well fit site and I'll be happy to become an active member for a long time.
Demonstration of your Roleplay style:
He felt his appendages hitting the soft terrain, vibrations flying through his bodice. His opticals narrowed into razor slits and leaned his weight onto his haunches. Getting traction he sprung up, soaring in the cold breeze until he felt his talons sinking into flesh and pelt, the crimson liquid sparying into him and his nostrils flaring of hunger.
