Post by Amaranth on May 29, 2009 19:54:14 GMT -5
Name: Amaranth
Age: 5 years
Gender: Female
Species/Breed: Mexican Red Wolf
Weight: 85 pounds
Pack: None
Rank: Lone Wolf
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
RP Example:
Family: Locations unknown ever since young age.
Friends: N/A
Codeword: CORRECT
Age: 5 years
Gender: Female
Species/Breed: Mexican Red Wolf
Weight: 85 pounds
Pack: None
Rank: Lone Wolf
Appearance:
Amaranth’s mother named her what she did for a reason not easily guessed: the she-wolf’s fur is a beautiful bronze with wide reddish streaks the color of dried blood lashing through it, which somewhat resemble the hue of the bright red amaranth flower. Her piercing eyes are even more golden than her pelt, but as sharp as they are, they gleam with kindness. Different shades of brown and bronze play across the regal gold and dark reds, which all mix together to form one coat; rather mismatched, but lovely all the same. Her pelt is like that of a wirehaired feline: rough and prickly, although on her chest and underbelly it’s as soft as a pup’s fluffy down fur. Her long legs give her the ability to run swiftly, and her strong paws allow her to handle almost any type of terrain. Amaranth’s body is lean and lithe, but sturdy. Under her pelt are powerful muscles, formed from many years of hunting, traveling, and getting into occasional scraps. From some of those fights are two small scars, one on her shoulder and another on her flank. Her long, luxurious tail tells a lot about her emotions. She normally holds it high in the air, as Amaranth is usually extremely sure of herself. But it’ll droop low to the ground when she’s angry, fidget nonstop when she’s nervous or scared, and ultimately show what she’s feeling whether she wants it to or not.
Personality:
Amaranth is a confident, outgoing, and friendly she-wolf. While she doesn’t support pack ways or believe in the existence of spirit wolves, she respects the opinions of others and feels it is not her place to claim that their beliefs aren’t true. Though she can muster up a game with a falling leaf and often makes amusing remarks in conversation, Amaranth is an intelligent and level-headed wolf. Brains over brawns, she says. No need to spill blood or bash others when your mind could’ve already been forming much better ideas. It seems as though this she-wolf has no flaws; she’s kind, smart, and respectful. But whoever assumes that she is perfect is extremely wrong. Despite her bubbly nature with seemingly no traces of hesitance in anything she does, Amaranth occasionally becomes anxious and paranoid, something she can’t prevent even if she tries. At times like these, she’ll nervously wonder if this or that was done right, or if she’s wrong on subjects such as afterlife. Half of her brain will point out that she shouldn’t judge opinions and actions as major as beliefs of life after death based on small occurrences, but she somehow can’t help it. However—and luckily—most of the time, Amaranth is content. She can make do with almost any situation. Being resourceful is a great attribute that she’s glad comes easily to her.
Amaranth tends to be an optimist, but isn’t so blind that she’d go into denial when trouble arises. Instead, she’s quick to take action on it, and quickly begins to plan ways to end it or at least be safe. Most of those who know her long enough to see many of these traits admire her. Though she feels satisfaction when she knows of this, she admires them right back for being respectful. She becomes overjoyed at the sight of young wolves with mature values; wolves that will likely become admirable themselves.
History:
When Amaranth was born, the sun was shining into a mossy den in the hollow of a tree. She was birthed along with two brothers and one sister. Their loving mother laid with them in the den for what seemed like ages, leaving only to hunt nearby. When they were finally old enough, she let them wobble outside. What met their eyes was wondrous: tall trees, gleaming sunshine, various plants and flowers. From then on, exploring was their favorite activity, and they ventured out of the den every day.
As the pups got older, they began to wonder about their father. Amaranth was the first to ask their mother about him. She was surprised by the question, but told her daughter the truth. “He left,” she’d said simply. “When I told him we were going to have pups...he must not have been looking forward to it.” She’d struggled a weak smile. “Because when I woke up the next morning, he wasn’t there. I’m very sorry that you won’t be able to know him.” But Amaranth had understood, in a way. She knew it wasn’t her mother’s fault, and that, for whatever reason, her father had felt he had no other choice but to run away from something he didn’t want to happen. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t want her now, right? If she ever met him, wouldn’t he want to know her? Of course he would. And her mother didn’t hate him, did she? She couldn’t hate the father of her children! But she’d pushed away all her worrisome thoughts and left to tell her siblings.
Amaranth had tried to forget about what her mother had told her. After all, she’d chosen on her own to find out, but then she’d wished that she’d never even asked. She had always thought her father had died valiantly, or that he and her mother weren’t supposed to be together—anything other than something as selfish as not wanting his own offspring! Her brothers and sister had accepted it, but it stayed in her head for so long that she made a life-changing decision: to leave. She couldn’t be around her family anymore without thinking of her father, who made her feel ashamed. It was her fault that her mother had gone through so much misery without her mate. If it wasn’t for her mere existence, they would’ve been happy together. Because of her and her littermates, he was gone.
Slipping away late at night made her shamefully feel like the dog-wolf himself, but she had no other options. Or at least that was how it’d seemed. And as frightened as she was, Amaranth did fine on her own. She had already developed hunting skills, and her clever mind usually protected her. She was now considered a lone wolf—and she was happy. At times, she missed her old life, and she felt guilty for what she’d put her family through. But her thoughts were cleared of her father. She felt free and full of energy again without it weighing her down. She was at peace.
RP Example:
The sun was setting. Amaranth had been hunting from dawn to dusk—literally—but ended up only burying two birds and a rabbit in earthy soil to keep them fresh. She was currently sleeping in a small clearing roofed by gnarled, intertwining tree branches. She rather liked the secluded peace, but at times she would long for the company of others, and she knew that she would eventually have to travel elsewhere. Packs had always fascinated her despite her love of being on her own; she hoped to one day make it to the forest, or whatever it was that she’d been told in the stories. She knew of their harsh behavior towards lone wolves, but perhaps she could convince them not to harm her or drive her out. It would be exciting if she could even stay a day or two with one of the allegiances to find out how pack wolves lived. The beliefs, traditions, and general points of view of others had always interested her. Amaranth was very knowledgeable, but was always striving to learn more. However, for now, she was content with where she was.
As she settled herself down onto the grass, cool now that dusk had fallen, the reddish-bronze wolf stared upwards to the sky. Sunset had rapidly faded away into dull blue. The first stars of night were beginning to appear here and there, and a chill had fallen upon the woodland in which Amaranth was in. As always when she was alone and without anything to do, and especially when she was staring curiously up at the stars, she wondered about the afterlife—or if there even was one. When a wolf passed on, could it really be possible for their soul to travel to the realm of spirits, completely detached from their flesh-and-blood body? And in that case, how could they possibly live on? If it wasn’t true, then what would happen? The thought of having no feeling, no hearing, no sight, no knowledge—just not being there; having no connection to the world whatsoever—seemed impossible. Well, unfortunately, there’s only one real way to discover the truth, she thought to herself, almost in amusement.
Amaranth shifted on the ground, shoving away the somewhat troubling topic. She felt like she had several different opinions on a single matter, but couldn’t you only have one? As is life, she continued in her head, grinning. You can never truly know...
Family: Locations unknown ever since young age.
Friends: N/A
Codeword: CORRECT