EVREN [STRAY] Jul 7, 2014 17:53:40 GMT -6
Post by dante on Jul 7, 2014 17:53:40 GMT -6
Gender: It's a mystery [he/him pronouns]
Contact: @skype; galadrielcousland
Age: Nearly 3.
Breed: Tamaskan mix, likely carries wolven ancestry.
Pack: None; once Fawnstalker.
Rank: Stray; formerly tenderfoot.
A proud visionary, Evren tends to believe that her ideals are what's best for all. She lives to contemplate and ponder the world around her--as well as her own actions--in the hopes that she will one day find the answers as to why the world is as it is today. When conversing with this dog, it is worth note that she can, in fact, be quite agreeable apart from her views on religion, but mistake her for no pushover; considering her reputation among the two packs, it is always best to speak softly and carry a very, very big stick--as Evren is undoubtedly doing the same.
Carrying a larger build than most Tamaskan females her age, Evren can give off quite the intimidating aura. Her coat is an iridescent black that glimmers and shines in the light, the abundant bio luminescent speckles embedded in her fur giving her the appearance of a canine-shaped cosmos. Her eyes are a vibrant violet, her sclera a dull shade of teal; and small spikes dress her brow. Adornments seem to have no appeal to Evren, as one could infer that she prefers her natural appearance to any artificial augmentations.
Limited Traits: n/a.
Evren, initially born to the Fawnstalker clan, was once a beautiful young pup with fur made of stars.
Though nowhere near the strongest, she had an insightful and inquisitive mind that always had her asking questions... but sometimes such questions can be more trouble than they're worth; Her independent thinking often caused her to butt heads with her elders, especially when it came to the subject of religion.
She refused to give praise to the Masters, having it steadfast in her mind that no higher power that had turned a blind eye was worth her time--especially when she could be using it to forage for food instead. It simply all seemed rather... counterproductive to her, and naturally the others didn't take to kindly to this attitude.
The then-tenderfoot was given a brief ultimatum by her Alpha; accept the masters, or be forced to wander the barren, rottie-plagued lands alone as penance for her sins. Evren failed to accept that her way of thinking was "wrong" in any way, and so she was exiled from the pack and labeled a heretic for all to see.
On her own, Evren's days were long and lonely, but she found her resolve in the fact that she stood up for something that she believed in; nights spent under the open skies with the stars staring down at her were hardly a punishment in her eyes, even if there was always the threat of predators discovering her existence. As time passed she grew larger and learned to adapt to her special scenario--and with the constant struggles she would face, Evren also grew to be much stronger in both body and mind.
When spotted by master-revering dogs, this one is generally viewed as an omen of bad luck to come and should typically be avoided at all costs.
Your name is Deliah Moreau, and you're on a quest. And no, it's not for the holy grail.
In all your life wandering the dense, tropical paradise that is Arden, not once have you ever seen nature in such dissaray. Not a night goes by when you aren't kept awake by the desperate howls of the wolves below, a threatening growl from an unsuspecting panther. The forest is alive, and you can hear its voice: Something is coming. But yet, for good or worse you aren't quite sure. All that you can do is keep one eye open while you sleep and hope that whatever it is that's going bump in the night doesn't get any great ideas.
You'd like to think that you'd make a terrible meal, anyways.
The sun rises, and with it: hope. Luminescent beams filter in through openings in the vast veridian canopys above, lighting up the clearing that you had marked for territory. You groan and carefully sit up on the branch you had so carelessly sprawled over, clouded green eyes finally opening to examine your surroundings: nothing has changed since last night. Good. You rather dislike change.
You leap down from the willow tree and make haste in snatching up your blade. You briefly apologize to the sleeping tree before etching a discreet 'X' into its bark. If you stumble upon this location again, you'll know. Now you take your bow.
Soon do you begin your journey through the brush, wishing for once that you'd have a more practical fashion sense as your leather pants get caught in the brambles.
But as you continued on your way, you realize that not all is as it seems. You give your leg a brief yank, freeing it from the clutches of plant-kind--and keep moving. However, you can't help but feel as if you're being watched... and you're almost sure that this is exactly the case.
You don't who or what it could possibly be, but you have a feeling it's nobody friendly. And if there was one thing you've learned on Arden, it's that you should always go with your instincts. You never truly know if you're safe.
Yeah, there's definitely something there. However, you can't make yourself too obvious; make the enemy appear as if they've got the upperhand, then prove them to be absolutley wrong--that's how a girl like you survives in a dog-eat-dog world like Ekerternia. Nothing is sacred, and it always pays to be on your toes.
Suddenly your foe rushes you from behind; an agile man who has been hiding from view from within the thorny brush. It was the man's footsteps that had previously set you off to his presence. He had slipped up and crunched a portion of the plant beneath his feet. Not so nimble after all, huh?
Your reaction time gave you the opportunity you needed to pull your sword from its sheath and expertly guide its tip to his throat. Your assailant came to a halt, your blade just barely drawing blood as it pierced the flesh slightly.
"State your reasons, or face your demise."
Your voice comes out a low, unyielding hiss. His eyes show hardly a flicker of emotion. Good. He's been trained well. You press the tip further, and more blood seeps from the simple puncture wound.
"Still nothing? I'm surprised."
You can't help but smile by this point. You've got this guy at the mercy of your blade, whether he realizes it or not. The situation is under your control. It's times like these when you get just a bit too cocky and you let your common sense slip.
So while you're busy with this guy, you fail to realize the two figures lurking in the trees, quietly approaching you as you're preoccupied with this mere drone. Suddenly the man smirks triumphantly; and that's when you realize that this whole deal's a lot worse than you expected.
You quickly whip around, only to see two flurries of movement steadily heading towards you as the drone makes a mad dash for it, fleeing the scene before things became too gruesome. You highly doubt that that's actually the reason, but you really can't think of anything better by this point.
You grip the hilt of your sword tightly and wait for your foes to come to you.