Post by leda on Mar 19, 2013 19:36:10 GMT -5
LEDA
"I can see the orange sky in front of me
I can see things you'll never see
People say its all a dream
But I can say words you couldn't speak "
• Nerion •
[/u][/center]I can see things you'll never see
People say its all a dream
But I can say words you couldn't speak "
• Nerion •
[/size][/blockquote]Full Name: Leda
Nick-Name(s): None
Gender: Female
Age: Four
Rank Desired: Alpha female
Pack: Nerion
Canon/Original/Wanted Ad: Original
want not waste not.. hmm
[/size][/blockquote]Eye Color: Amber
Pelt: Leda's pelt is of medium length in some areas such as her neck and shoulders, a bit shorter along her hind quarters. It is a mix of off white and cream and she has a small patch of silver on her forehead. Her fur is soft to the touch, a little bit coarse on her sides, and her tail is soft and slightly fluffy.
Build: Leda is a smaller wolf, both in height and weight. She sees it as a blessing though- her smaller size gives her advantages that bigger wolves do not have. She is thin boned and light on her paws, but does tend to loose even more weight in the winter.
Weight: 126 libs
Permanent Markings: Her right hip is scared due to an attack when she was younger, and it hardly grows hair along the scared tissue.
Other: None
[/size][/blockquote]Likes:
- Summer
- Listening to others talk
- Pups
- Alone time
- Dreams
Dislikes:
- Winter
- The taste of most birds
- Clingy-ness
- Losing arguments
- Not knowing about a subject
Strengths:
- Thinking ahead
- Agile
- Working with others
- Compassion
- Following her gut
Weaknesses:
- Strength
- Unable to make many friends
- Lacks some conversational skills
- Remembering to eat
- Lacks many fighting skills
Fears:
- Scared to fully trust anyone
- Becoming a mother
Overall Personality:
The best way to describe Leda would be to say that she is rather whimsical. Her mood changes quickly, she can never seem to make up her mind unless she is dead set on something. She seems to be off in her own world at most times, talking to herself and mumbling bits of poetry that she puts together. She's quiet and a much better listener than speaker. She slips away often to spend time with herself, generally watching her pack from afar rather than interacting. She is not one for constant touching or random bits of affection, and can come off as cold and distant. Leda is not a fighter, preferring to wear her opponent down with her constant movements and then go in for a small attack. When it comes to her emotions, she holds them close to her heart in a small metal box wrapped in razor wire and surrounded by starved tigers. She is unable to place her full trust in most others because her family turned on her when she was younger. She wants to make friends but feels that they will do the same, betray her somehow and so she saves time by not trusting anyone to begin with. She fears becoming a mother because of what her mother did to her, as she doesn't want to be like her. She also feels that because of her lack of trust, she won't have a happy family or bond with a potential mate.
[/size][/blockquote]Dam: Meru
Sire: Fulkon
Sibling(s): Tolkeita, Kinae
Other: None
History:
Meru and Fulkon were nomads, traveling with a small group of wolves that were constantly moving south. They would stop for a few days at a time, even a week or more, and find shelter and food and then be on there way. Meru was a young female of three years old when she became pregnant with Fulkon's pups. They were a strange match, but they did love each other and when her gestation came to an end, they decided to part from the group until the pups were old enough to travel. Three were born, two females and a male. The male was named Kinae and the females were named Leda and Tolkeita. They were normal, happy pups. They played with each other as they grew, and Fulkon taught them the ways of the wolf. When they were old enough to walk a long distance on their own, Meru decided to try to find the nomad group they had traveled with because she had become close with a couple of the wolves.
Three months later, the groups were reunited and the pups were introduced to the older wolves who watched over them together. One wolf, a black male named Teigan, was indifferent about the pups. He was a cold wolf that seemed to be the unnamed leader of the group. Either out of respect for fear, the other wolves listened to his direction. One night as the moon rose, he called a quiet meeting and described a dream he had had the night before. In the dream, a small white and cream colored female rose to meet him in battle and slaughtered him, taking control of the group and killing off those that disobeyed her one by one. The description of the wolf matched Leda. Though she was but a year or so old and a relatively quiet, nearly nonexistent member of their little group, the wolves turned on her. They snapped at her with fangs that wanted to rip into her flesh and struck at her with claws that wanted to do the same. Teigan was a dangerous wolf, older than the rest and stronger too, and it was either listen to him or face exile or worse. Leda was devastated by the fact that these wolves had turned against her so easily, but even more, Fulkon, her own father, did as well. Little known fact, Fulkon was Teigan's son, and what father said son did. It was his life or his daughter's, and he had another daughter to fill her place. Meru followed her mate's lead, horribly in love with an evil shadow of an even more evil brute.
Leda was attacked, her right hip was torn apart to the point of horrible scaring and the loss of hair in some places. She ran for her life, away from her brother and sister and parents and the ones who had helped to raise her for the last eight or nine months. She was on her own for a while, but not long. Other wolves found her, following the scent of her blood and stench of her wound. Wary, she allowed them to tend to her and help her heal, but stayed away from them after that. She followed, teaching herself to stay hidden and go unnoticed. She ate their left overs, camped down wind from them, and traveled as their shadow. After a year, she left to live her own life, sick of being a nomad. Unfortunately, it seemed that was what she was meant to be. She kept happening upon lone wolves or smaller groups that permitted her to travel alongside, and eventually she grew a back bone and decided on a life goal. To lead, but to be a different leader than what she had known. To lead with a fair fist, to be alone in her power. So she did what most wolves do, she left and found her own wolves. She found a disgruntled bunch that had originally been loners, banded together for protection against a harsh winter, and through her words of kindness and promise, she somehow ended up leading them.
Alias: - C Box Name - Mayday
Age: Seventeen
Experience: About 4 years
Other Characters: None
How Did You Find WoD?: Furry Paws post
Roleplay Example:
Badgerpaw shivered. It was not that it was cold, although there was a slight breeze within the dark forest, but from excitement. Tonight was his first training lesson in the dark, and his mind buzzed with wonder of what Blackstorm had planned. The black warrior had told his apprentice earlier in the day to meet him over by the old sycamore tree that had been burned to blackness before his time. Sitting around camp with the other apprentices had not been a sufficient way of wasting time until the moon decided to bathe the territory in its white light. His paws had kept itching, his mind argued with him to head out early. He had indeed put it off though, as he did not want to be so early that Blackstorm wouldn’t even be there. Yet with a sigh and a quick explanation to his apprentice friends, the brown tom had taken off.
The breeze did not bother him, and he was grateful for the scents that were carried in his direction. Parting his jaws slightly, he drank in the fresh air and started to test himself on who the delicious and curious smells belonged to. The strongest was that of a fat pigeon, and he tilted his gaze upward to look in the higher branches of a tree to his right. Sure enough, the gray head of the bird bobbed up and down from its resting place. He could also smell a vole, but decided against tracking it down. He had shared a jay with Rookpaw before his departure, and his belly was content for now. Flicking a velvety ear, Badgerpaw weaved between the thick trees of his clan’s territory, toward his mentor’s suggested spot.
He stopped a few yards away, nose twitching ever so slightly as he picked up Blackstorm’s scent right before the breeze shifted directions. Picking up his pace a bit, Badgerpaw covered the remaining length between him and his mentor with a few bounds. Padding around the big sycamore, he lifted his triangular head and his green eyes began to sparkle with curiosity. “Greetings, Blackstorm,” he meowed coolly. Flicking his tail to the warrior, he took a seat in front of his mentor, crouching down to his belly and wrapping the length of his brown tail around his body and paws. He raised his head so that he could see the black tom’s eyes, waiting patiently for him to begin speaking.
The breeze did not bother him, and he was grateful for the scents that were carried in his direction. Parting his jaws slightly, he drank in the fresh air and started to test himself on who the delicious and curious smells belonged to. The strongest was that of a fat pigeon, and he tilted his gaze upward to look in the higher branches of a tree to his right. Sure enough, the gray head of the bird bobbed up and down from its resting place. He could also smell a vole, but decided against tracking it down. He had shared a jay with Rookpaw before his departure, and his belly was content for now. Flicking a velvety ear, Badgerpaw weaved between the thick trees of his clan’s territory, toward his mentor’s suggested spot.
He stopped a few yards away, nose twitching ever so slightly as he picked up Blackstorm’s scent right before the breeze shifted directions. Picking up his pace a bit, Badgerpaw covered the remaining length between him and his mentor with a few bounds. Padding around the big sycamore, he lifted his triangular head and his green eyes began to sparkle with curiosity. “Greetings, Blackstorm,” he meowed coolly. Flicking his tail to the warrior, he took a seat in front of his mentor, crouching down to his belly and wrapping the length of his brown tail around his body and paws. He raised his head so that he could see the black tom’s eyes, waiting patiently for him to begin speaking.
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