You gotta fire up, you gotta let go... You'll never be loved 'till you've made your own! You gotta face up, you gotta get yours. You'll never know the top 'till you get too low!

"Why should I worry? Why should I care? I may not have a dime, but I've got street savoire faire!"

Open up again I believe in second chances...Please let me in oh I believe in second chances...I won't break you I will not let you down...Open up again I believe in second chances

Be careful making wishes in the dark... Can't be sure when they've hit their mark-- And besides in the meantime I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart...

"You can throw me to the wolves and tomorrow I will come back leader of the whole pack. Beat me black and blue. Every wound will shape me, every scar will build my throne."

- Name -
Former; Qimmiq | Current; Silaluk.

- Age -
5 years old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Male & Heteroflexiable

- Breed/Subspecies -
Wolfdog Hybrid - 75% Canadian Timber Wolf x 15% Alaskan Malamute x 10% German Shepherd Dog.

- Pack/Rank -
Wild Fangs Alpha Male.

- Appearance -
Height: 33.6 In | Weight: 195 lbs

A large male; Silaluk's heavier build and sturdy frame mark his dog heritage, lacking the lithe, willowy body type pure wolves are known for. His skull is narrow, leading to a slightly tapered muzzle that ends in a coal black nose. His round eyes are a dark shade of orange, soul piercing and authoritative. There aren't many who dare hold his gaze for longer than necessary, and if they do they should expect consequences for such a bold response. His left ear is torn and his muzzle is marred by toothmarks as is the rest of his body.

His pelt is medium length and thick, including a dense undercoat. While predominantly black, silvery hairs tick the shoulders, throat, chest and bottom jaw while his back and sides retain more of a brownish hue. His hind toes are completely white while the front feet are also a tad paler than the rest of his body. His bushy tail has a hint of a curl to it when Silaluk is in motion, but remains straight when he is resting. He has large, snowshoe type paws with tough, darkly colored pads very similar in shape and function to those of a Malamute.

- Personality -
Silaluk accepted early on his purpose was little more than that of a punching bag for those of higher status. Despite being large and strong enough to have served his birth pack as a proper subordinate he was cast into the omega rank as a result of his mixed heritage, never given a chance to advance his rank or truly prove how much he could contribute. He behaved as any omega should, obedient and passive, but beneath the surface a resentful demeanor was kept carefully concealed. Quick to anger and sharp of tongue, he was forced to keep up a facade of compliance and cowardice in order to survive. Often he fantasized about overthrowing his alpha and taking his place, but he was never foolish enough to believe he would survive such a confrontation.

Eventually the abuse he suffered and discontent with his lot in life urged him to make an escape and so he did. In the present day Silaluk is confident and self-assured. He's at the top of the hierarchy now and he doesn't let anyone forget it. Silaluk doesn't quite share Ashira's level head, aggressive and easily guided by negative emotions, but upon founding the Wild Fangs he was determined to do do better than his old alpha. He cares for his packmates immensely and even the lowest ranks, save the Omega which is used as a punishment to teach rule breakers a lesson, are treated with respect here. A highly territorial leader, he won't accept uninvited guests so much as an inch inside his borders. Trespassers often do not last long in his realm.

- History -
[ Trigger Warning ] - Abuse and the usual cringe you can expect from my backstories.

Born under the name Qimmiq (an Inuit word meaning dog), Silaluk was a forbidden child, the single offspring of a full-blooded wolf mother and a wolfdog father. While his mother initially begged for his right to live, she shunned him as he grew older to save face, reluctant to be associated with her hybrid son. Willow slowly regained the respect of her peers, but that was not a luxuriously Qimmiq was ever given. Shoved into the omega position nearly the moment he could fend for himself, Silaluk was forced to accept the world’s cruelty from an early age.

By the time he reached two years of age Qimmiq was unable to bear the torment of his packmates any longer, escaping in the dead of night and praying they would not follow him. He lived as a loner for another year, putting as much distance between himself and his birth pack’s territory as possible. His submissive nature all but vanished, this newfound freedom he had claimed for himself bringing with it a sense of self-worth and confidence. He took to travelling near the edge of human settlements, scavenging for food. It amused him to find humans and dogs appeared fearful of his presence.

By the end of his third year Qimmiq discovered the reserve. Something about it just felt like home and he decided to remain in the unclaimed woods just outside town. Most of the dogs kept away from him and there were no wolves in this place. It was perfect. Shortly after settling, he met a Keeshond named Gust, a simple pet who often snuck away from her owners to have an adventure in the woods. Despite her lack of street smarts she proved fearless and bold. Silaluk was drawn to her immediately. The two became close over time, starting out as friends before love blossomed and Gust left her housefolk behind to live with him permanently.

It was by chance Qimmiq came across Ashira that fateful day, travelling alongside the river in search of water prey when the scent of blood reached his senses. He found the yearling hidden among bushes and immediately felt compelled to help her, doing his best to ease the pain of her wounds before leading her back to his camp. Gust was less than thrilled by the presence of another female in her mate’s life and her jealousy only increased as the bond between Qimmiq and Ashira continued to grow. When it became clear Ashira wouldn’t be going anywhere Gust gave him an ultimatum and Qimmiq chose the dog he had adopted as his sister over his mate.

A few months later he and Ashira founded the Wild Fangs, side by side as equals, and Qimmiq changed his name to Silaluk (an Inuit word for storm). The pack started out small, but as the moons passed more and more dogs decided to join them. Finding acceptance among dogs he never had with wolves, he discarded any pride he might have previously had in his wolf blood. Now the Wild Fangs are so powerful and numerous they rule the woodlands unchallenged by others...or they did until the wolves arrived. Filled with unfound memories and a vendetta that cries for the blood of his enemies, Silaluk is determined to put an end to them.

- Relationships -
• [ Ashira ] - [ Adopted Sister ] - [ Played by Dez ] •
The dog he cares for most. She is his sister, his right paw, his most trusted ally. He would be lost without her by his side and their lack of blood relation does little to deter him from calling her family.

• [ Slade ] - [ Half Brother ] - [ Played by Rabs ] •
Currently unaware of their shared blood. Should he ever learn he has a blood brother it likely won't stop him from wanting to tear Slade's throat out.

- Theme Song -
Throne - Bring Me The Horzion.

- Other -
It’s clear Silaluk is highly uncomfortable with his high wolf content and would rather be considered a dog. It would be unwise to make any comment concerning his wild heritage unless he and the other canine are especially close.

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"You never know what temporal days may bring. So laugh, love, live free and sing."

- Name -
Cisco.

- Age -
3 years old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Male, Homoromantic & Bisexual.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Silken Windsprite.

- Pack/Rank -
Rez Pet & Town Dog’s Council Secondary.

- Appearance -
Height: 19 In | Weight: 30 lbs

An elegant little sighthound with a short, soft light tan coat. A black saddle marking covers the back and shoulders while white fur splashes across the throat, chest, front legs, paws, underbelly and the tip of the tail. Dark fur can also be found lining each chestnut brown eye, giving Cisco a look akin to wearing mascara. He possesses the typical traits one might expect from a racing hound with long, straight front legs, a flexible spine and an athletic build that appears at times a bit on the extreme compared to other breeds.

In profile he might evoke some familiarity to the whippet's larger cousin the greyhound; a narrow, chiseled head leading to a gently tapered muzzle and arched neck. The hair found on his ears and tail is longer than the rest of the body, almost feathery in texture. A black collar bordered with red is worn around his throat, a shining golden tag dangling from the end marking him as pet. As such he is unmarred by scarring or blemishes, one of the few dogs on the Rez untouched by physical wounds.

- Personality -
A formally social and prestigious hound as he comes from a rather reputable family. Life without his loved ones has hardened Cisco into a less than friendly animal. He has a sense of duty to the dogs on the reserve, but tends to cross others as cold and unapproachable outside of council responsibilities, his tone holding a hint of annoyance, his temper often proving short. With that said, there is little doubt Cisco can be trusted to get a job done and his dedication to his work is unquestionable.

In fact, some might assume his job is the only thing Cisco has going for him and that presumption would be correct. In truth he’s a rather lonely hound, his new owner’s presence bringing him little comfort, the death of his mate, best friend and children a memory that will haunt him until the end of his days. The thought of getting close to other dogs is terrifying even as he desperately desires canine companionship. Despite his less than formidable appearance Cisco is quite the fierce little dog, promising himself he will never give way to cowardice again.

- History -
A breeder’s dog, Cisco thought he would spend his entire life on the vast property he was born on. Though he has no romantic interest in the opposite gender he appeared to have little issue siring pups as his owner wished, the proud father of several litters throughout his short career as a stud. Whether or not his owners noticed his tendencies to slip away with Blue, the neighbor’s male Australian Shepherd, were of little concern to him. Indeed Cisco was quite carefree and facetious in his youth, a trait shared by his two youngest sons Sinmar and Syndus.

Tragedy struck in an unexpected way, a fire engulfed their home in unforgiving flames, destroying everything in its path. Cisco attempted to lead his family to safety, but lost them in the chaos of their escape, leaving the building without them. Distressed and crippled by fear, Blue rushed in to rescue the trapped dogs in his place. He nor Sasha and the pups ever came out. Cisco’s owners lost everything and unable to deal with with the aftermath, they sent Cisco to live with a relative on the reserve while they figured out what to do next.

- Relationships -
TBD.

- Theme Song -
Paperthin Hymn - Anberlin.

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"With shortness of breath, I’ll explain the infinite. How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist."

- Name -
Tarkik.

- Age -
2 years old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Male, Panromantic & Demisexual.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Arctic Wolf.

- Pack/Rank -
Blood Moon Howlers Delta.

- Appearance -
Height: 26 In | Weight: 60 lbs

A white fluff ball. His pelt is often stained a brownish color from rummaging around in search of herbs. Though he has little idea what to do with them he's eager to learn their uses and incorporate them into his practice. He'll go herb hunting anywhere from the bottom of a pond to the branches of a tree towering for miles above his head and his coat is rarely clean as a result. Otherwise, he is a typical Arctic Wolf.

His build is lanky and long-legged, most of his gangling frame hidden by his thick pelt. Currently no bigger than an adult German Shepherd, he is still fairly young and has quite a bit of growing to do. Tarkik's nose is the darkest point on his body, though faint black hair can be found ticking the back and tail. His almond shaped eyes are a bright shade of amber and prove very expressive. You'll always know what Tarkik is feeling from his eyes if not his face.

- Personality -
To say the least, Tarkik is a bit of a hapless mess. Clumsy and forgetful, he means well, but isn't the best at his job. It's not necessarily through any fault of his own. He's never had a proper teacher. Often in the wild the only thing you have at your disposal for a wound are cobwebs and healers were kept around to more or less judge the severity of injuries, watching over sick or injured wolves until they either got better or died.

A gloomy job truly. He's always wanted to do better. Tarkik is a non-aggressive wolf and has kept away from most of his pack's deadly battles,uninterested in involving himself in his peers’ brutality and his own fighting skills poor. While practical, Tarkik is not unkind and hopes things will work out between the dogs and wolves somehow, as naive as that must be. Optimisitc and bubbly, he always tried to see the bright side of a bad situation.

- History -
A former omega found to have some use as a healer, he was reluctantly accepted as the next delta when the current one passed of old age without having trained an apprentice. His existence in and of itself is a miracle, born from an unapproved mating as well as being born the runt of his litter. Tarkik spent most of his young life trying to keep out of the way of angry packmates and is now at times still flinches away from them in expectation of pain.

- Relationships -
• [ Slade ] - [ Leader ] - [ Played by Rabs ] •
Terrified would be an accurate description of his response to being summoned or confronted by his alpha.

- Theme Song -
Saturn - Sleeping At Last.

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"No matter where they take me death I will survive."

- Name -
Switchblade.

- Age -
4 years, 10 months old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Female & Homoflexible.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Turkish Kangal.

- Pack/Rank -
Wild Fangs Hunter.

- Appearance -
Height: 30 In | Weight: 120 lbs

- Personality -
Switchblade is a recently escaped fighting dog just trying to turn her life around. As her breed dictates she is a humble guardian, growing protective and fiercely loyal to anyone she cares for. She exudes a calm demeanor in even the most irritating of circumstances, but it's best not to push for a more emotional reaction. This dog has many personal demons she struggles with daily.

Once Switchblade flies into a rage stopping her before the offending canine has either managed to escape her wrath or lays dead at her paws is not an easy feat. It's a problem she's well aware of and is trying to move past for the sake of a more peaceful life, fearing she will never escape her bloody history. She has taken great measures to keep herself from situations that might lead to violence against another canine, hence why she has taken the role of a hunter over a warrior despite being better suited for the latter.

- History -
[ Trigger Warning ] - Dog fighting mention.

Kangals are typically kept as watch dogs and livestock guardians, but Switchblade unfortunately ended up in the hands of one of the reserve's dog fighters instead of on a farm. Her intimidating size and ferocious nature quickly made her a champion, but Switchblade took no real pleasure in the killings and the first chance she got to flee she took. She cannot see humans as anything other than evil as a result and may become violent if any try to approach her. Joining the Wild Fangs has done her a lot of good.

- Relationships -
TBD.

- Theme Song -
Somebody To Die For - Hurts.

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" God bless us everyone, we're a broken people living under loaded gun, and it can't be outfought, it can't be outdone, it can't outmatched, it can't be outrun."

- Name -
Ikkuma.

- Age -
3 years, 5 months old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Female, Demiromantic & Bisexual.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Greenland Dog.

- Pack/Rank -
Rez Feral & Council Member.

- Appearance -
Height: 24 In | Weight: 66 lbs

- Personality -
Known for her quick wit and intelligence, Ikkuma tends to leave others feeling a bit cold. Her demeanor is icy and abrasive with a sharp tongue and even sharper teeth. Naturally mistrustful of strangers and aloof in demeanor, in the past she preferred to stay away from other dogs, but has found she very much enjoys the idea of a council where her voice can be heard. Regardless of her at times anti-social tendencies Ikkuma is quick to assist other loners if they are being unrighteously attacked. She despises bullies and won't tolerate them. Ikkuma likes to think herself in complete control of her emotions, but the reality is she has a rather fiery temper.

One of her biggest flaws is perhaps that she feels she must handle all personal struggles on her own. Tragedy tends to overwhelm, and she pushes her loved ones away so she is left to cope alone, never wanting to be viewed as weak or emotional. She is a dog used to relying on herself and does not trust easily, but perhaps this might change the longer she spends around the other council dogs. She will prove devoted to any who do manage to capture her loyalty. Despite her outwardly hostile personality she has a healthy sense of humor and once comfortable with someone may prove a bit more friendly, albeit one should never expect Ikkuma to lose her snark completely.

- History -
Born on the reservation as a feral, Ikkuma has been on her own since she was around three months old. She trusts the humans even less than she trusts other dogs and won't allow them to come near her, snapping at offending hands or snarling in their general direction to keep them away. Ikkuma's mother Oka was a poor parental figure in her life, manipulative and selfish. Ikkuma was glad to cut her off once she could fend for herself and hasn't spoken to her since. An elderly man managed to befriend her for a time, using her as a sled dog, but their time together was short and once he passed she would allow no other human to touch her.

- Relationships -
TBD.

- Theme Song -

The Catalyst - Linkin Park.

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"I'll be by your side wherever you fall, in the dead of night whenever you call."

- Name -
Bear.

- Age -
4 years old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Male & Pansexual.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Native American Indian Dog.

- Pack/Rank -
Rez Stray & Council Member.

- Appearance -
Height: 33 In | Weight: 125 lbs

- Personality -
Kindly and empathetic, Bear is always willing to lend a paw to those in need, a shoulder to lean on, or at the very least an ear to listen. It would be uncommon to see this guy without a smile on his face or a warm glow in his eyes, and he appears to have an almost endless supply of optimism. He isn't quick to fight, certainly having the strength to push others around, but often chooses compromise over bloodshed. Bear would rather settle scores without resorting to violence if he can help it. .

An extrovert to the extreme, he appears to enjoy being around others, dogs or otherwise, and rarely takes time to himself. Bear is highly dedicated to both his brother and the Rez council as a whole and considers time with them well spent and never a waste. He always does his best to be considerate of others and will be the first to apologize after an argument, as even he does not have an unending well of patience, though it does appear to take quite a while to find the bottom.

- History -
Bear was once a beloved pet and lived a fairly normal life by his owners' sides for his first year of life. While he was always given the option to roam he now no longer has a home to return to as his owners cast him and his brother aside as a result of the expense of keeping them. Bear might have been given the chance to stay, his gentler moods easier to handle than Fang, but he refused to abandon his brother as their humans had and made the decision to stay with him.

- Relationships -
• [ Fang ] - [ The Broski ] - [ Played by Wolflord ] •
Bear is determined to look out for him as any older brother should, but also knows he can rely on Fang in return.

- Theme Song -
By Your Side - Tenth Avenue North.

Other
I feel like I should mention Bear's theme song is actually about Jesus' love for humanity, but well...it's a very lovely song and I can't help relating it to this big teddy bear.

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"I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way.
I'll be the watcher of the eternal flame, I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams"

- Name -
Serenity.

- Age -
2 years old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Female & Bisexual.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Japanese Akita.

- Pack/Rank -
Wild Fangs Warrior.

- Appearance -
Height: 26 In | Weight: 87 lbs

- Personality -
Serenity is the pack chatter box. She's loud. She's proud. Deal with it. She has a habit of butting into conversations and offering her opinion on things, especially when it's not wanted or asked for. She is a bold and brash young dog with a definite do or die mentality. Serenity can come across obnoxious as she is both bossy and stubborn, but it’s usually not her intention to purposefully offend or aggravate her packmates.

Outsiders and trespassers aren't so lucky. She's well known for taunting rogues who wander close to Wild Fangs' borders, a highly territorial canine who often needed reminding not to pick a fight before every border patrol. Impulsive and quick to lose her temper, she can be quite the pawful. Despite the impression the above might give, Serenity is loyal to her pack above all else and would do everything in her power to protect any one of her packmates. Not a bad friend to have at the end of the day.

- History -
Born within the pack to purebred Akita parents who made the decision to leave their owner. While Akita are well known for their undying loyalty, Serenity's parents were often horribly neglected and given no reason to love their human. The decision to leave him on the promise of a better life was an easy one. As such the Wild Fangs is all she has ever known and she is quite content with her place in the pack.

- Relationships -
TBD.

- Theme Song -

Immortals - Fall Out Boy.

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"You've only got 10 more paces to live, enjoy your last moments, they're my gift to give."

- Name -
Magnus.

- Age -
3 years, 8 months old.

- Gender/Orientation -
Cis Male & Bisexual.

- Breed/Subspecies -
Borzoi.

- Pack/Rank -
Rez Pet. Currently not a council member.

- Appearance -
Height: 32 In | Weight: 100 lbs

- Personality -
Borzoi are often known for their gentle natures, but it seems this one didn't get the memo. While generally calm and frivolous Magnus can become violent at the drop of a hat and appears to care very little for the opinion or feelings of most outsiders. Volatile and dangerous, he is highly argumentative and confrontational, seeming to consider his way the only way.

Magnus enjoys using intimidation to get other dogs to agree with him and is not above resorting to vicious tactics in order to convince them further. Those who manage to gain his friendship will find him more amiable and willing to compromise, but it's not an easy feat to wiggle your way into his inner circle. He has limits, but Magnus is willing to go to extremes in order to punish someone if he feels they deserve it.

- History -
Magnus started out a more gentle pup, growing up the prized hunting dog of a man living on the outskirts of the reserve beside two sisters. Things changed after feral dogs began moving into the area and Magnus learned to be vicious in order to protect his family. Unfortunately not even he could save them from the weather, both of his sisters lost in a particularly rough storm while out hunting with their owner, though Magnus fortunately managed to lead him home. Still abhorrent of wild canines for what they put him through in his younger years, his opinion of ferals and strays is quite poor and wolves even poorer.

- Relationships -
TBD.

- Theme Song -
Not Afraid To Die - Written By Wolves.

"Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is."
♚Name:♚
Slade
♚Nicknamed:♚
The Big Bad Wolf
♚Age:♚
4.5 Years
♚Gender/Sex:♚
Male//Both mentally and physically
♚Sexuality:♚
Bisexual - Biromantic
♚Family♚
Raina - [Mother, Unknown]
Father - [Status: Unknown]
Silaluk - [Step-Brother, Unknown]
Other sibling(s) - [Status: Unknown]
♚Breed/Species:♚
Grey Wolf/Timber Wolf
♚Pack:♚
Blood Moon Howlers
♚Rank:♚
Alpha
♚Personality:♚
Narcissistic
- Slade, being the narcissistic guy, really only has wide eyes for himself. He doesn't really care about what others think of him as long a he is proud of himself.
Sly
- This male is very cunning and devious. Some would say he is a deceitful son of a gun and if it came down to it, Slade would easily lie to get his own way, only to then stab the other in the back.
Cynical
- He only finds interest in his own doings. When it comes to being forced into listening about another's interests and goals, he'll just brush them off and gloat about himself.
Possessive
- Once you catch the eye of this brute, he'll rarely ever let you out of his sight. Or his paws. He'll want to keep you by his side 24/7 and really hates to let you go anywhere without him.
Degrading
- Slade will make you lose every inch of self-respect you had created for yourself and make you believe you are nothing but a waste of oxygen.
Dominant
- Slade will fight fang and claw for dominance, and he'll usually win. He has a great hatred for being submissive and would most-likely rather claw his own eyes out than deal with being ordered around.
Sharp-witted
- He is very good at understanding things quickly and noticing things even if it is close to being under the radar.
Intelligent
- Slade has great intelligence and like a machine, knows various responses for different situations. He is great at master plans and will lead his followers to victory
Self-Sufficient
- Like they say, if you want things done, do them yourself. Slade is a self-sufficient wolf who gets things done quickly and efficiently by himself.
Observant
- Things do not go unnoticed from him as he is very observant of his surroundings.
Strict
- You must play by Slades rules if you don't want to have canines or claws in your neck.
Minor Sadistic Sense
- He loves to strike fear into others and he may cause injuries to those who try to befriend him. If you were to think you were his friend, you are wrong and he is most likely just using you because you are of great use to him, like a minion of some sorts.
Authoritarianism
- Slade craves authority. He loves being the authoritative figure in a group and will step up any chance he gets.
Abrasive
- Unless somehow you become his favorite thing in the world, or somehow squirm your way through his dark and rude demeanor, he won't even give you a second glance
Obsessive
- Like possession, he will be on top of you all the time, mostly breathing down your neck.
♚History:♚
Before Slade was born, his mother liked to gallivant around and sleep with every other brute willing to give her even the slightest attention. In the process, it ended up having him being the result of such scandalous evenings. Though, being about four years old at the time, she was completely able to take care of him, but did she? No. She didn't really care and decided to hide him in some leaf-litter in the roots of a fallen tree that had been cut down. From there, that tree stump was his home. When he was a newborn, he couldn't really take care of himself, it was only luck that a couple of dogs strolled passed his nest when he was in dire need. They'd take care of him and then wouldn't commit and leave him for the next canine, if there was one, to handle the wolf. It was kinda like a foster system for Slade. It never ended until he was around one years old, and that's when he decided enough was enough. He grew stone cold and cut off the path from any and all dogs that walked down that way, his sense of trust was fragile and he couldn’t bring himself to be friendly with others.
He found that he was skilled in surviving in the Rez, a nickname for the area where dogs were scattered about. But did they even know he was there? Again, no. He hated to be followed by every single dog he came upon and would only scare them off. That continued on until he realized some of the dogs were submissive towards him. They'd do whatever he wanted them to do. That became the base of how his great personality started. And since then, he's been collecting canines, waiting to organize his own pack. That lead to his long list of conquests, smiting them and taking control of smaller groups of dogs he came across.Currently, he resides as the Alpha wolf to his pack, Blood Moon Howlers, near the Rez and stands tall above to his followers, keeping everyone in line.
♚Crush:♚
None//TBD
♚Mate:♚
None//TBD
♚Offspring:♚
None//TBD
♚Theme Song:♚
I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin
♚Other:♚

Q: What is a vampire’s favorite fruit?
A: A nectarine!
♚RP Sample:♚
(This was taken from the old Rez Dog RP Thread from my first post)
The Siberian husky was gazing up at North as he stood there seemingly fighting inside of his own mind about something that Alaska couldn't comprehend. Though, as a surprise, her heart quickened as he licked her cheek gently. The she-dog's ear tips grew hot, inflammation with embarrassment and affection. Her golden brown eyes watched as the quite muscular brute froze up before leaping forward at an abnormal pace. Alaska had to trot to keep up with the bigger dog. Her swift movements kept her just a foot behind- that was before the grotesque scent of mangey blood hit her nostrils. Her heart was thumping even quicker but only this time, it being out of fear.
Images flashed in her mind out of horror at what could be wrong. The sight of dogs lunging at eachothers throats had her stutter to a sudden stop, her eyes were zoned out before she focused back in on reality and noticed the dark shepherd who seemed to be in a bit of a bloody mess. Alaska could sense North's disliking towards the feral dog but her instincts kicked in. Nodding towards North to go ahead without her, she quickly placed the dead quail that was in her jaws, in her den. With care at the most, as she didn't want to tarnish North's gift to her. Backing up, she turned around and raced over to Radjka. Honestly, she really never had to drag someone back to her den.
Placing her jaws softly on a part of his pelt that wasn't basically bitten off, she tugged her head backwards, using her paws as leverage to back herself up. Strength wasn't one of Alaska's perks, so she had a bit of trouble and she had no time to waste. Grunting, the husky finally made it to her den where she placed the unconscious male in a nest. Meanwhile, she gathered up leaves and started to chew some of her herbs to a smooth poultice. Placing the medicine on some leaves, Alaska placed them on each and every wound with a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding. Her needs would have to be tended to later on, for now she had to keep an eye out for the shepherd incase he showed any signs of worsening.


Art to be added
”You keep me safe. I’ll keep you wild.”
♚Name:♚
Macey
♚Age:♚
3 Years
♚Gender/Sex:♚
Female//Both mentally and physically
♚Sexuality:♚
Heterosexual
♚Family:♚
Rustiika - [Mother, Deceased]
Devon - [Father, Alive]
Raphael - [Brother, Unknown]
Turtle - [Brother, Unknown]
Quinn - [Brother, Unknown]
Other Sibling(s) - [Status: Unknown]
♚Breed/Species:♚
Leonberger x German Shepherd
♚Pack:♚
Wild Fangs
♚Rank:♚
Lead Fighter
♚Personality:♚
Stubborn
- Being an a** that she is, Macey rarely lets anything get passed her. She'll be very hard to persuade and won't budge to do anything she doesn't like
Adventurous
- Everything she has to do turns into an adventure somehow. Have to hunt down a lost pup? She turns it into a quick paced adventure. Need her to toss a dog off a cliff? She turns it into an adventure. Her favorite thing to do is go sight seeing.
Compassionate
- Like fire that never wants to die out, she is very fierce about what she wants and how she wants it. Being a fighter means everything to her. She also has a tendency to be very upright about anything and everything.
Innovative
- Macey is always throwing great ideas to the table. Whether it be new methods of hunting to good strategies in capturing foes.
Ebullient
- Being a rather young dog, around three years old, she is still easily excited and loves to cheer people up.
Empathetic
- Macey has an easy way of understanding someone pain or confusion, or really anything. She'll put herself in the coat of her fellow acquaintance and realize what they have gone through.
Resourceful
- Give her a small handful of gravel and she'll turn it into a nice cozy fire, leaving you guessing how she did such a magical thing. Macey never lets anyone use more than what they need.
Hardworking
- Since she was born, she worked hard to earn her place and no dog can rip that away from her. She loves to plan things out so they go as told and will stop at nothing to keep it that way.
♚History:♚
She was born to a great, big German and a dainty Leonberger German Shepherd. Devon was her fathers name (Bringing in an old Character as an NPC) and Rustriika was her mothers name. She had three older brothers, Raphael, Turtle, and Quinn.
She was born three years ago in the healers den to an unknown healer. The only thing she really knew was that Alaska was the apprentice at the time.
Macey grew up tussling with her brothers and always being brought up to defend herself. Her mother had raised all four pups alone as her father, Devon, decided to get things going and moved out from the family to go back to his player ways. When Rustriika's pups grew up, all three brutes decided to leave, in hopes to either create their own packs or find another one.
Macey was left with her mother, who had grown grey hairs around her muzzle and eyebrows. She had to take care of her mother who was slowly losing mobility until the point that she was paralyzed. She was quite older than other female dogs when they decided to breed. Her mother was eight when she had Macey and her brothers. Now pushing eleven.
Feeling guilty for keeping such a sweet soul stuck in a troubled body, she had to face the fact that it was time for her mother to depart her time on earth.
Since she had passed away, instead of trying to find a mate and carry on her bloodline, Macey joined the rank of Fighters and now fights under Silaluks orders.
♚Crush:♚
None//TBD
♚Mate:♚
None//TBD
♚Offspring:♚
None//TBD
♚Theme Song:♚
Devil in Me - Halsey
♚Other:♚

♚RP Sample:♚
Done Already



♚Name:♚
Alaska
♚Age:♚
3.5 Years
♚Gender/Sex:♚
Female//Both mentally and physically
♚Sexuality:♚
Heterosexual
♚Family:♚
Heather - [Mother, Deceased]
Derek - [Father, Deceased]
Lily - [Sister, Alive]
♚Breed/Species:♚
Siberian Husky
♚Pack:♚
Wild Fangs
♚Rank:♚
Lead Healer
♚Personality:♚
Soft-hearted
- Alaska is known to be soft towards the injured and is very careful as to not give her patients any discomfort.
Compassionate
- Her passion to heal drives her on through life. She would never give her rank up for any silly ol' thing
Strict
- When it comes to healing, Alaska can be strict because it's either you're serious about living or you're trying to be funny and you die of infection. There can never be an in between with Alaska
Playful
- When off duty, Alaska can bring out her inner playfulness and can be quite fun. Even the grouchiest dogs can be the most playful.
Bashful
- When flirted with or shown any sort of attention, Alaska grows shy and starts to stutter slightly, considering herself bashful. She's a cute little thing.
Sarcastic
- A minor plus to her personality, she is always keeping her best trait a secret. Her sarcasm. But if you're lucky, she can make your day with this.
Adventurous
- This canine loves going on adventures through the area. Finding new things always excites her and she adores those who join her or even invite her to check things out.
Caring
- Alaska has a big heart and is always caring for those in need. She hates to see those she loves get hurt or even worse.

♚History:♚
Born to two Wild Fang residents who went by the name of Heather and Derek, Alaska was one of two pups in their first and only litter. The second pup being only seconds younger, she was named Lily after her creamy coat with tads of rust hinted throughout her pelt.
Alaska was the odd one out of the family. Her mother and father along with her sister, Lily, sported browns, oranges, and creams in their coats along with big brown eyes. Alaska, on the other hand, sported white and silver and had icy blue eyes.
This caused her father to grow skeptical of how truly faithful his mate truly had been to him. Claiming she would never do such a thing, Derek trusted her and let it go. Moving forward with their lives, Alaska grew up as a happy and compassionate pup who always looked out for her little sister. The sisters had a strong bond and at times, there were multiple scares brought to the family when Lily had stopped breathing after catching hard colds. Alaska would break down crying about how horrible of a sister she was and how she couldn’t protect or heal Lily herself.
These moments had awakened her drive to take part in learning under her packs healer as a trainee. Lily had taken interests in hunting. Studying and learning as much as she could, Alaska always was an overachiever to impress her packs healer, Tris. In the end, it benefited the pack.
As Alaska grew older, so did her parents, and so did her mentor. Grey hairs started sprouting around the muzzles of the adults that she looked up to her entire life. Her father, had a quick and painless pass the following weeks Tris had announced Alaska as her secondary healer. It was just enough time for him to explain how proud he was of his eldest daughter before he passed on. Alaskas entire life, all she had ever really known was kindness and care.
When her mother was nearing her end, Heather explained very sternly, well- as sternly as she could, that Alaska should never let anyone, anything change her pure heart. The world needed more kind dogs. Promising her mother to never let her morals slip away from her, Alaska called for Lily to join her in the healers den, and there they slept the night keeping their mother protected and comfortable as she slipped into an eventual coma and passed on to be with her father.
Heartbroken, everything seemed to crash down on Alaska at that very moment. Her mentor Tris who seemed completely healthy and full of energy, died suddenly in the next following months. Then her sister Lily had broken the news to her older sister that she was going to leave the pack to search for a forever home, claiming pack life just wasn’t for her once she acquired approval from her alpha’s approval.
Saddened, Alaska said her goodbyes and watched in defeat as her sister left the pack and into the woods- never to be seen again. From then on, Alaska made it her main priority to keep focused on her duty as healer. This paid off and had her promoted to Lead healer of the pack. Nowadays, she does what she can to keep her forever home, The Wild Fangs, safe and healthy.
♚Crush:♚
North5ever;-;
None//TBD
♚Mate:♚
None//TBD
♚Offspring:♚
None//TBD
♚Theme Song:♚
Him and I - g-eazy ft. Halsey
♚Other:♚

♚RP Sample:♚
Done Already

Source of Art (By me)
More Characters coming

WRAITH

_{(yes i know this doesn't entirely match up with her written description but just pretend it does shhhh)}

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Name:
Wraith

Age:
3 Years, 6 Months

Gender/Sex:
Cisgender Female

Sexuality:
Biromantic & Bisexual

Breed/Species:
Northwestern Wolf

Pack:
Blood Moon Howlers

Rank:
Fighter

Appearance:
Wraith is a fairly tall fae, with a muscular, large frame. Her skull is round and solid – carrying a pointed, narrow muzzle where a black nose sits. Her ears are pointed and large, capable of hearing even the tiniest sounds. As an albino, pinkish-red eyes decorate her skull, and the dame's cranium is supported by an average neck that rests high on her shoulders. Her form is carried by long, slim legs, with a lengthy, plumy tail sweeping behind. As a Fighter, this fae is almost completely muscle; one wouldn't want to be on the receiving side of her might.

Wraith’s fur is soft and of a medium length. There’s only one color that decorates it – white. The tips of her ears to the end of her tail is a pure, snowy white. Her orbs are a striking pinkish-red, although they appear a pure red or pink in certain lighting. Under her albinism is a grey wolf with chocolate-brown eyes.
Her skin is blemished by the plethora of battle scarification she carries. Although they are mostly hidden by fur, they can still be visible in the breeze.

Personality:
Sneaky, clever, and mischievous to the core, Wraith is certainly a hellion. A prankster at heart, one can find her flicking pebbles at a napping brute, or purposely stepping on the tail of a poor pup. Although she wouldn’t dare to try this on the alpha or someone her superior, anyone else is fair game. After all, they should have been more aware of their surroundings. Her devilish maliciousness is well-known throughout the pack, and many find themselves steering clear of the underhanded fae. Her impish ways are a dreaded event to some, but amusing to others. Either way, she shows no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Amazingly, Wraith has never received any major repercussions – the worst being a minor bite on her shoulder. Predictably, this has left her arrogant. Due to her egotistical vanity, this female believes that she is superior to anyone below a Fighter. By extension, this obviously includes the dogs. Although her rippling muscles allow her to back some of this up, there are still some stronger that would surely defeat her. Although, she is not stupid enough to go near anyone drastically bigger, so her arrogance hasn’t gotten her in major trouble yet. However, it’s only a matter of time.

History:
Even as a mere pup, Wraith was still a troublemaker. The fae was born to two doting loner wolf parents, Mikila and Romeo. The pair had been trying for years for a pup, and the moment they laid their eyes on little Wraith, it was love at first sight. She loved playing pranks, and because of her parents' adoring mentality, she always managed to get away with it. Over time, these jokes escalated into harmful -- sometimes life-threatening -- tricks. Even though their pup clearly posed a danger to them, Mikila and Romeo were adamant in her innocence.

Her parents soon passed away; conveniently -- almost too conveniently -- in their sleep. It was strange that they both happened to die on the very same night. What a coincidence. After their unfortunate deaths, Wraith wandered for a bit. Eventually, she stumbled upon the Blood Moon Howlers. They noticed her wolf heritage and her apparent glee for chaos and disorder. After short contemplation, they let her join, and Wraith is evidently happier.

Crush/Mate:
None

Offspring:
None

Other:
I still remember the last thing my grandpa said before he kicked the bucket.
He said, "Hey, how far do you think I can kick this bucket?"

RP Sample:
WARNING: Cannibalism (Read at your own risk.)
As her beta finally moved away from the elder body, a surge of ravenous dogs sprinted to fill the empty space. Because of her position in the front of the crowd coupled with her impressively long legs, Espitus was one of the first to reach the bloodstained corpse. Sinking razor-sharp fangs into the thigh, the fae aggressively pulled and thrashed, determined to tear the limb off. Heart pounding, she let go of the leg to snap at a mongrel that tried to tackle her to take the piece she had claimed. Not on her watch. Espitus reared up, displaying her impressive size to the mixed-breed dog; paws flailing to strike the cur in the face. Falling back on all four paws, she dived back to the corpse leg before someone else could try and steal it while she wasn't looking. She bit down once again, the metallic taste of blood filling her senses. Teeth scraped against bone, and with her powerful jerking, the female triumphantly ripped off the left hind leg and a good chunk of the thigh. Panting heavily from the difficult task, the adrenaline, and the wound from the mongrel, Espitus ran away with the limb clutched firmly in her jaws.

The last few days had been very eventful. Her alpha had passed on, poisoned by a rat. A rat! A lowly rat had managed to take down the mighty brute. However absurd it seemed, Espitus knew that the slimy, dirty creatures weren't as defenseless as she once thought. When he passed, she didn't dare feast on his body for fear of contracting the same disease that killed him. She preferred to stay alive, thank you very much. Her beta was promoted to alpha, and a dog Espitus had never heard of before became the new beta. She could see him now, lounged atop a dumpster. The Kangal dog looked like he was almost completely muscle, and golden eyes stood out starkly from the dark face.
Looking away, the fae positioned herself to stay in the shade of a trashcan and busied herself with flicking pebbles at a napping hound.

🌠:Name:🌠
Malo

🌠:Age:🌠
Seven years old.

🌠:Gender/Sex:🌠
Male.

🌠:Sexuality:🌠
Asexual; loves all genders, but not sexually.

🌠:Appearance:🌠
Malo is a large Akita Husky that stands at almost three feet of height, and is very well poised.
His shoulders, back, and head are streaked with a thick line of burnt umber, while he has a white underbelly and legs.
The area around his eyes are shadowed deeply, giving him almost the appearance of a German Shepherd mix, with eyes that are dark brown and a husky curled tail that holds the same streak of umber across his back.

🌠:Breed/Species:🌠
Akita Husky.

🌠:Pack:🌠
The Wild Fangs.

🌠:Rank:🌠
Beta

🌠:Personality:🌠
Malo is very dignified in his status of the pack, and shows never-ending loyalty to his Alpha and fellow brethren. He wants to do the best called for, and prove himself worthy to The Wild Fangs, making him act out in ways that don't actually reflect who he is.
Insecurity is what drives Malu, the feeling of that he can always do better if he just tries, and in the hope that he'll one day present himself as something greater. In his heart, however, Malo is a very playful and outgoing dog, as he had always been since birth.
That side of him his now hardly ever seen, considering all the turmoil that rakes the lands and the tension between all the great packs.
Having a very uneasy distrust to many unknown dogs, Malo can build up walls faster than he can destroy them, and never seems very interested in finding a mate, or opening up.

🌠:History:🌠
Malo was born in Nunavut, Canada.
He was one of a six-pup litter, and was brought up to work as a sled dog like his great father before him; a multi-champion racer.
Bred to run, Malo trained immensely with his siblings, and was entered in The Iditarod at age three as second lead dog. The fifth day in the race, his team passed under a glacial mountain that had begun to corrupt and crumble.
He was the only dog to survive the avalanche.
Under the immense stress of observing the disaster, Malo ran from Alaska to Northern Canada, using only his wit and strength to keep himself going.
Ending up in the territorial shift between The Wild Fangs and Rez Dogs, Malo submitted to Silaluk, the black wolf-dog and his sister, Ashira. He's never shared the trauma he went through during his racing days to anybody, and it's a memory still locked inside his heart.
Malo has made himself a promise: to never show that amount of attachment to anybody ever again, for he had already suffered from seeing his team and siblings go down.
Using that promise, Malo worked himself up the ranks until landing Beta, and now protects the pack with everything he can offer.

🌠:Crush:🌠
Open!
🌠:Mate:🌠
Open!
🌠:Offspring:🌠
Open!

🌠:Theme Song:🌠
Grandson - Blood // Water

🌠:Other:🌠
Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.
Malo's back left paw is missing a toe and under all the underbelly fur, he has a long healed slice scar that runs from his inner thigh up to his stomach, both wounds he got escaping the accident.

💫:Name:💫
Akela

💫:Age:💫
Six years old.

💫:Gender/Sex:💫
Identifies as Female / Is spayed /

💫:Sexuality:💫
Homosexual.

💫:Appearance:💫
A small, long-haired Siberian Husky.
Akela has sharp blue eyes that are quick to notice, as the white fur around her face crown her head, before deep black markings swarm her back and tail.
She's a bit under average height, and has thick long hair with shaggy hinds and a dented tail.

💫:Breed/Species:💫
Siberian Husky.

💫:Pack:💫
The Wild Fangs

💫:Rank:💫
Secondary Healer.

💫:Personality:💫
Akela is very sharp witted, and she often chooses facts over feelings.
She tends to calculate before taking action, and is a very good strategist.
Her head is always held high, and she never lets her size change any views towards her authoritative and insistent personality. Although small, Akela finds her way through senses and is actually quite active.
Though she may bark before bite, Akela will defend her pack and those she cares about with her life, and is always ready to face challenges.

💫:History:💫
Akela was born not far from the reserve, to a mother whom Akela doesn't recall, since she was brought up by the hand of an elder male human. She had lived with him until two years of age, when on a very cold winter night, he left and never returned.
Akela had stayed in the quite abandoned house for the next two passing weeks, waiting for a sign that he was returning, he never did.
Unsure of what she was to do, Akela walked a long dirt trail that leaded father away from the only home she knew; everything was changing around her.
She stumbled right betwern the two territories belonging to the packs, and quickly found herself being chased by a pack of strays.
Scared and traumatized, Akela hid in an overfilled dumpster for two daya until she was found by a member of The Wild Fangs, and has never left them since.
She studied the art of healing, and now has been in the pack for four years.

💫:Crush:💫
Open!
💫:Mate:💫
Open!

💫Theme Song:💫
Two Feet - I feel like I'm Drowning

💫:Other:💫
Akela always tries to keep her fur clean, but will often be seen with muddy paws.



🌙:Name:🌙
Kio, nicknamed 'Mudkik' by the pack.

🌙:Age:🌙
3 Years.

🌙:Gender/Sex:🌙
Male

🌙:Sexuality:🌙
Demisexual

Trigger warning: Hints of depression and low self worth.

🌙:Appearance:🌙
Kio is a rather small male as he was the runt of his litter, with thick gray fur and a dark blazed back.
His snout carries a line of black until reaching up to his slight golden eyes, where his fur ruffles out into a crown of fur beyond his short ears.
Along his hinds is a myriad of cuts and bite marks given to him by older wolves or members of the back, signalling his Omega stance at not fighting back and his patience for harassment.

🌙:Breed/Species:🌙
Mixed wolf.

🌙:Pack:🌙
The Wolves

🌙:Rank:🌙
Omega

🌙:Personality:🌙
Through the torment and bruises Kio has received from being the lowest of low in the pack, he has become quite shy and frantic. He'll always appear scared when speaking to anyone, and lowers his head even towards dogs no bigger than a foot.
His responses are always slow and quick, and he'll always scurry off to the side when in the presence of a beta or anyone higher than him.
Kio is very use to being toyed with, and will make no comment when getting a quick bite on his back legs or being pushed around, as he's accepted who he is.
Being a runt has also made him very self conscious, as he's much smaller than average males.

🌙:History:🌙
Kio was born to a mother dying of rabies, and although the runt, he was only three to survive the harsh winter that surrounded his birth. He was used to being kicked around by his two older sisters, and still bears scars of their awful play.
When joining the pack, he was first placed as a scavenger, until slowly sinking lower as his small height payed him no use, and became the chewing dummy for others.
Kio spends most of his time as far away from the pack as he can possibly be without being considered a traitor, taking small lone walks to find food for himself as he's rarely allowed to actually eat.
Even with his life the way it is, Kio finds beauty in nature and sometimes sits for hours, just listening to the wind.

🌙:Crush:🌙
Open!
🌙:Mate:🌙
Open!
🌙Offspring:🌙

🌙:Theme Song:🌙
Finneas - Break My Heart Again

🌙:Other:🌙
Sometimes during the night, Kio sneaks into the town and speaks to a feral wolfdog named Seska, whom seems to be the only person who seeks his company.



❇:Name:❇
Seska

❇:Age:❇
Four years old.

❇:Gender/Sex:❇
Female, identifies as such.

❇:Sexuality:❇
Pansexual.

❇:Appearance:❇
As a wolf-dog, Seska is larger than a dog but average size for a female wolf. Her coat is ashy and fades into dark black around the rear of her back and paws.
Her snout is plastered with black, shadowing over her bright brown eyes.
With a fluffy coat and giant paws, Seska appears a wolf before anyone even thinking that she might be 30% dog.

❇:Breed/Species:❇
Wolfdog
(70% Black Wolf , 30% Alaskan Malamute)

❇:Pack:❇
N/A

❇:Rank:❇
Unaffiliated Stray

❇:Personality:❇
Seska is a very frightened wolf-dog, and doesn't easily trust others.
Being on her own has shaped her, also her distinguished wolf looks keep getting her chased around by Rez and Wild Fang dogs.
Seska can easily be mistaken as pure wolf.
When approached, her fight or flight instinct is on all time high, and her brain is so ready to flee that she often will run even from dogs who have no quarrel with her.
If talked to, she says few words, and when confronted, never puts down a fight.
Though she was once a lovable, friendly wolf-dog, she now lives in fear and insecurity of never being able to fit in or find friends.

❇:History:❇
Seska was actually born in the reserve, as one of the native people's wolf-dog had a frequent meeting with a purebred wolf, producing Seska and her two brothers. She was born on a cold December night, wrapped up in a blanket with her siblings, while her gorgeous mother tucked herself in next to them.
Everything was amazing for Seska, that is, until the house caught fire.
When Seska was just five months old, an accident costed the house it's family, as a cigarette butt led the mahogany structure to burst into flames, ultimately suffocating the natives inside who were asleep, while only Seska and her one brother made it out alive, for her mother had stayed behind to try and wake up the humans.
Left with burn marks and scars, Seska and her brother Rollo ran for the wilderness to shelter themselves. After two days of battling trauma, they returned to the reserve, only for Rollo to be caught and sold off to a family in Nebraska, and Seska to flee back into hiding.
She spent the first year alone hiding in the burnt ruins of her old home, resting in the same ashes of her mother and brother.
Seska found herself quite alone and scared.
She slowly became feral, but would still eat whatever offered to her by fellow neighbors, running from them if they tried to touch her.
Now, after the rubble of her house being cleaned away, Seska remains in the reserve, taking shelter in an unused telephone box that sits just at the entrance. She tries her best to remain unseen, considering how much of a wolf she appears.

❇:Crush: ❇
Open!
❇:Mate:❇
Open!
❇:Offspring:❇
None!

❇:Theme Song:❇
You're somebody else - Flora Cash

❇:Other:❇
The call box Seska lives in was once a bright red, but now has rusted over. A dirty pink towel is spread out on the bottom and Seska usually sleeps with her snout resting on the entrance foot bar.

Click for Info AND pics!

Maex
"I always thought I might be bad, now I'm sure that it's true.
Cause I think you're so good and I'm nothing like you."
Age
5Y 9Mnths
Gender/Sex
Female
Sexuality
Heterosexual Biromantic
Appearance
Maex is a large pure white dog who is of Kangal Dog and Saint Bernard ancestry. However, from a distance, she is known to be mistaken for a small polar bear thanks to her coloring, broad muzzle, large skull, huge paws, clipped ears, and short-medium length fur with a thick undercoat built to war against the cold. On closer inspection though, one will discover that the she-dog has a long white tail, and a more lean body structure than any bear could ever hope to achieve. Weighing in at 182lbs and standing at a shoulder height of 31 inches, this female's corded muscles are built for power not speed, although an astonishing amount of endurance lies within this female as she can keep up what can only be described a lazy ground-eating gallop four hours on end. Old scars from several bullet wounds and a few bite marks pockmark the female's alabaster hide, physical reminders of hardships long past.
Breed/Species
Kangal Dog & Saint Bernard Mix
Pack
N/A
Rank
Head Consul-Pet
(Has been in the consul for two years, has been the head for only one month...Has not yet met the Alphas of the Wild Fangs)
Personality
Calculating, humorous, and protective not to mention possessive, Maex is a rather laid-back canine who is slow to show anger or fear no matter how dire a situation might become. Level-headed in most situations, Maex has an instinctive curiosity of all her fellow canines...and she has a deep desire to better get to know everyone she meets, to learn what they're passionate about, what they fear, what they think, how they tick. The better she gets to know you, the more she tends to show her care and concern for your well-being. Mae genuinely wishes the best for everyone (nearly, no one's perfect) she meets, often checking in with friends and acquaintances, making sure that everyone she knows has enough to eat and drink. At heart, Maex is a peacemaker, always trying to mend the relationships between others despite the fact it may be seen as invasive. She is generally non-violent, called by inner demons but realizing that harming others is not as rewarding as it may instinctually seem. Worst case scenario, if pushed beyond her peaceful tendencies, Maex may very-well be a terror to behold, fulling realizing that any harm she causes others will undoubtedly have ripple effects, but pushed to the point where she doesn't care...only hearing the call of ancestors upon ancestors of ring dogs.
History
Born to an owner on the reservation who had made it his personal project to create a new type of champion ring dog, Maex's future looked bleak, filled with bloodshed, aggression, and hunger. Though female dogs are usually kept to breed new dogs Maex was the largest of the litter and built with more muscle then the Kangal dogs which had dominated the fighting ring in recent years. The product of a purebred Kangal Dog (a champion in the ring like his father and grandfather before him) whom had been imported specifically for the purpose to fight and spread his genes, and a Saint Bernard who had spent the majority of her life birthing litter after litter, Maex's life was difficult from the very beginning. As an adolescent, Maex began her training in the ring, and it wasn't something pretty as she was forced to face off against her own siblings for food. None of these fights were allowed to end in death, but this changed when Maex was only one year old. It was like all the other fights for food, but this time no more food came when dominance over the first chunk of meat was established. It soon became clear, to Maex and the sibling she had been paired with this round, that there would not be enough food for two individuals in the coming days. It was kill or be killed....or starve. Maex was the survivor of that fight, and the days after were a blur of guilt, melancholy, and pain.

While fighting strays pushed into the ring Maex was also fighting with the terms of her life, struggling with the emotions she felt versus the instincts that drove her...she started to accept her situation, and fought with a new savagery...she stopped consciously looking at her 'training' partners. She didn't wish their faces to haunt her dreams.

Maex was nearly two years old when her owner's ring was busted (though he, unfortunately, he was not present when that happened, and he was able to escape)...many dogs were rescued from the terrible conditions they lived in, including Maex herself. Sent to a Humane Society, none of the dogs were friendly towards their own species and were rather indifferent towards humans in general. Maex ended up being adopted by an older man in his late sixties, a former marine in the Navy. Many of her fellow ring dogs were not so lucky. Maex herself was incredibly blessed with the patience and kindness of her human. She began training as a search and rescue dog, and it didn't go well for many many months. However, the kindness of her human, Kalvin, soon became unparalleled in Maex's eyes. He gave homes to stray cats, helped his fellow humans, and always encouraged kindness towards other dogs. Eventually, despite the fact it went against her instincts, Maex tried to emulate her human's behavior. Though she has trouble sometimes, she has come very far and to this day tries and to live up to her owner's kindness. She is worried for him...lately, he has been breathing oddly in his sleep, and he does not move around as easily as he used to.
Crush
N/A (Pm if interested)
Mate
N/A (Prefer to rp out, pm if interested)
Offspring
N/A
Other
|Switchblade| Half-Sister |
What time did the man go to the dentist? Tooth hurty. (I hate myself too)
RP SAMPLE
__________________________
Grover's eyes blinked open at the sound of Balder's voice, her golden irises quickly adjusting to the somber lighting the moon made as it cast shadows through the dank cave. Opening her mouth in a white-toothed yawn, the she-wolf got to her feet letting her black nails dig lightly into the dirt as she shook out her now dry pelt. Time to move. However, there was the small problem of carrying baggage....she, of course, could switch into her human form. Unfortunately, the ground was still quite disgusting after the down-pour...and this desert land was starting to get pretty cold without the warm rays of the sun to thaw out the air. No, traveling in human form...with pour night vision and no fur, was not an inviting thought. Walking over to where her backpack lay, the subordinate grabbed it between her teeth and attempted to lift it...unfortunately as she had guessed this was baggage that needed to be carried with hands or securely attached to an individual's back.

Glancing out into the night, Grover watched as the wolves started on their journey for a new home. One wolf in particular caught the female's attention, his thin frame and limp making her ears perk forward. Gregory Black, the pack omega.

"Black!""

Without waiting to see if Gregory had stopped and turned, her call echoing through the cave and into the night air, the large subordinate caught up with the wolf skidding around his frame so that she stood in front of him. She could force him to carry her bag...he was required to follow the orders of subordinates as well as higher ranking wolves. Still, it would be fair to at least give him the option of getting a small reward. It was never wise to make enemies when it could be avoided...especially with a war having been declared.

"You carry my bag, and I'll rip off a good-sized chunk of meat for you next time the pack brings down something. Deal?"

Whether or not he accepted Grover planned on making him carry the bag one way or another...hopefully he would take the deal and wouldn't make a fuss out of it. _____________________________________________________________________________

Rushmore
"Love at first sight dosn't exist. Love takes time and love takes work."
Age
4Y 3M
Gender/Sex
Male
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Appearance
Rushmore is a rather stunning rough collie with a long tricolor pelt that is a patchwork of blue merle, russet, and alabaster. Though he looks quite huge, much of this male's physical size is actually an illusion created by the luxurious mane of a pelt that his particular breed is known for. In reality, Rushmore weighs in at only 52lbs and has a height of 23inches. Rather then be built for strength the body under the male's coat of fur is lean, built for speed and agility one might need to heard cattle or sheep. The blue merle shades of color in Rushmore's coat blanket his back, tail, and back legs, while the alabaster creeps along this canine's chest, front legs, and neck. Slashes of startling russet lie exclusively on the underside of Rush's face, as well as dot his 'eyebrows'. Luckily his pelt does well in blocking out the cold, the ice clods can become a problem if not taken care of regularly.
Breed/Species
Rough Collie-Purebred
Pack
Wild Fangs
Rank
Head Hunter
Personality
A charming rather posh individual, with the past of a player, Rushmore is a diciplined trickster and gentleman with just the slightest hint of silliness attached too his personality. This male is a first generation Hunter whom has dedicated a rather large part of his time and energy to perfecting the art of the Hunt. An extensive heritage of shepherds allows this male to instinctively understand the mind of a herbivore, it's weaknesses and it's strengths. The rest of Rushmore's rather eccentric personality has been used to have the common fling with any female willing to have some fun. However, in recent months Rushmore has struggled with the rather confusing urge to choose some individual as a mate, sire few litters of pups, and create a family. Though this an utterly ridiculous (and rather stereotypical thought that must certainly be something that will pass in the next few weeks) Rushmore has decided to follow through with these strange new urges for now. However, though this male is known to be controlled, level-headed, and dependable during a hunt....the same cannot be said for the more romantic aspects of his life. As I said before, he is known to be a player with a short attention span....and though he is charming, there are (many) occasions in which he has been known put his foot in his mouth.
History
Rushmore has a rather simple history, having been born to two purebred collies on a ranch quite near the Reservation. Life was simple in this male's youth, and he soon developed a crush on a female who had been born to two different collies on the ranch. However, she was bought by a different human in her youth and Rushmore's romanticised envisionings of their future together were crushed quickly, as she was destined to live far to the south. After this loss in Rushmore's life, he became restless, often sneaking out in the night to the frustration of his parents and siblings whom took their jobs as flock guardians very seriously. And it wasn't that Rushmore didn't have a sense of duty, nor was he lazy...he disliked being reminded of his youthful friend and the only way he could truly forget was to leave the ranch once in a while. Eventually, as he grew older, Rushmore became known as a player and a charming sweat talker to many of the females on and off of the ranch. When he had just halfway through his adolescence, Rushmore decided to leave his home in favor of joining a nearby pack called the Wildfangs. It was a rigidly structured pack, but Rushmore was used to structure and he no longer needed to make midnight jaunts as the place where the pack lived didn't remind him of his long-lost crush. The male quickly climbed the ranks (it helped that when he joined it was a tough year for the pack), until he eventually reached his position as Head Hunter. Though he is known as a flirt when off-duty, on-duty Rushmore is in charge of hunts and he knows it...no one hunts without permission and Rushmore makes sure to assign the hunters to certain sections of the territory so that prey does not get over hunted.
Crush
Oh he'll be looking for a crush.
Mate
Wants one, but doesn't want to rush into it. He likes the idea of creating a family, but struggles with the recent danger the pack has in and the risk it poses for potential mate and offspring.
Offspring
Not that he knows of, though he has had plenty of flings. If he knew he would take on the responsibility of being a father in an instant.
Other
Please don't make me do it again.

“The heart can grow cold if all you've known is winter.”
N O R T H

Age
4 Years Old.

Gender
Biologically and Psychologically Male.

Sexuality
Heterosexual.

Breed
Beauceron.

Role
Wild Fangs Beta.

Appearance
Few can steal a glance in this brute's direction without feeling at least partially apprehensive. North is notorious for wearing a sullen frown and speaking in a tone that's far from warm and welcoming, not to mention he appears to be slightly larger than what is typical of his breed. He has been moulded into a warrior and as such is quite muscular and built to take a blow. His face is angular and masculine, wearing a heavy brow and a thick, long muzzle that ends in a large leathery black nose. The top of his snout, and the majority of the left side of his face, has been damaged by an array of rather ugly old scars. His coat is primarily a short, but very thick layering of burnished black, wearing only the most minimal of beige markings along his limbs and muzzle that his breed typically sports. His ears have been mutilated into sharp, upright points by human hands, but his tail remains long and intact. He has very dark pools of golden brown eyes, only really lightening to an amber colour when hit directly by sunlight.

Personality
Though not necessarily prone to violent outbursts, North is extremely defensive and will lunge without warning if he feels threatened. He isn't shy of a fight, and has no issue with turning to tooth and claw as a way to resolve issues if conversation proves not enough- and on the other end of this tyrant is not a place to be desired. He is known to be quite vicious with his maneuvers and will not rest until he seems satisfied with the outcome. North doesn't have many close friends and quite honestly he prefers to keep it that way- he's far too impatient and irritable to deal with the idea of companions and has no desire to establish a close bond with another canine. Feelings are expendable and distracting- to care for another being can only grow into a weakness. Instead, he cares for the pack as a whole and does so in a manner that is distant and professional. He'll do whatever he needs for the welfare of the community, but he himself will not socially indulge in it unless it's for a diplomatic purpose.

History
North was born to a backyard breeder who bred his dogs not for purity or health but solely for profit. Most of North's littermates ended up with the same fate as his own, handed over to a gang of crooks looking for their next few bucks through underground dog fights. He survived in the ring on his own for about a year before eventually attacking one of his handlers in a hunger and stress induced rage. damaging the man thoroughly enough that he had more than enough time to turn tail and run after escaping from his pen. North spent the majority of his life afterwards wandering alone, teaching himself to forage for food and hunt (though he's had his successes, it's safe to say they are few) as he approached the Northern territories. He eventually wandered across The Wild Fang's turf and. while their initial meeting was unpleasant, the ferals could recognize the strength the beauceron held and he the chance of survival they could offer.

Relationships
East (sister, unknown)
He currently has no desire for friends or romantic connections and will avoid them. Despite such an introverted outlook, enough interaction with another individual may bring him out of his stubborn and miserable shell.

Other
North is an exceptional fighter. His talents as a hunter? Not so much. He's terribly loud and ungraceful.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
I am the one who will never be broken."
R Y K E R

Age
3 Years Old.

Gender
Biologically and Psychologically Male.

Sexuality
Heterosexual.

Breed
German Shepherd Dog.

Role
Rez Dogs Council Member / Stray.

Previous Role
Police Dog.

Appearance
Athletically built with a lean muscled structure and well proportioned limbs. He's fairly average in terms of overall size but he possesses an impressive amount of strength and endurance known for his breed. His coat is thick and mid-length but oddly enough contains the slightest bit of curl along his neck and his underside. Not necessarily a real trait, it just appears to be a rather endearing sort of bed-head. He is predominantly a rich golden brown colour though faint hints of dark sable tick along his sides before darkening to an entirely jet black saddle along his back, shoulders, the top of his tail and creating a dark mask across his eyes and down his muzzle. His snout is long and slightly crooked, fitted with giant upright ears. His eyes are a rich mahogany colour. The length of his pelt hides any scars he may wear, but he can't disguise the terrible limp he has in his right hind leg. Generally the old injury does not hinder him but it can occasionally flare up into something much more painful and cause him some issues.

Personality
Ryker is a dog who's behaviour can be seen as a bit odd to an ordinary stray. He's quite formal and professional, his peculiar mannerisms of bowing and sitting up with his head raised a result of strict training from his previous line of work. He speaks rather conventionally as well, rarely dipping into the more personal ends of a conversation unless he feels comfortable enough to share such a moment with somebody. He is naturally compelled to protect and defend the things that hold great value to him, and once he's established a bond with another individual it's safe to say he'd risk his life to ensure their safety. Ryker is intelligent and actually really quite friendly, but he seems wary of strangers and isn't quick to trust. He can also turn out to be very curt and cold to those who do him wrong- he isn't one for second chances.

History
Ryker worked for the police unit as a drug detection dog with his handler. Due to the inhabitable nature of their location, Ryker was placed in what was considered a specialized unit and was not used as often as his team would've liked. A rather rare call of a potential bomb threat was called in one morning and Ryker was sent in to accompany the bomb dogs on their mission, the handlers hopeful that Ryker would show an eagerness to perform this particular work and potentially train in such a field. Unfortunately the call was certainly not a false alarm and it was disengaged inside the house, immediately killing the majority of his time and leaving the rest severely injured. Ryker was cut up, the worst wounds suffered to his hind leg where several shards of shrapnel had embedded themselves. Not long after he was taken back into town and taken to the town vet, a rather shady shack that wasn't very fit to care for animals in the first place. He was left outside on a piece of rope to "heal" and rest within an old carved out barrel, but eventually grew agitated and gnawed himself out. He wandered further North and remained there once reaching the reservation, eventually establishing himself as a (small) presence within the community.

Relationships
Piper (friend, played by me)
He travels with the collie and serves as a protector to the smaller dog. They are quite close and he considers her family. He has a tendency to get rather snippy with her, however.. he thinks she can be much too friendly to unfamiliar faces.
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"What's the good in being good, if it's done me no good?"
P I P E R

Age
2 Years, 10 Months Old.

Gender
Biologically and Psychologically Female.

Sexuality
Bisexual.

Breed
Border Collie.

Role
Rez Dogs Feral.

Appearance
Lithe and ladylike, Piper gives off a naive innocence that leave most underestimating her. She's a petite thing, with a long feathered coat and narrow, dainty paws. The white of her coat is clean and pristine, the black sleek and glossy. She takes great pride in keeping herself presentable, though she is far from haughty, and occasionally unsuccessful in keeping herself entirely dirt-and-earth free. She is predominantly dark, save for her white muzzle, tail-tip, stomach and feet. Her eyes are very pale and lack pigment, appearing almost to be a very light blue. Hidden beneath the length of her fur is a clear sign of malnourishment and a general lack of human care, but her eyes remain bright and she is still as responsive and energetic as could be.

Personality
Despite facing some of the cruelest blows life could throw at her, Piper has a very sweet demeanor and tries to see the good in everybody. Much to Ryker's disdain, she isn't very wary of strangers and will go out of her way to befriend them or offer assistance if required. This naive behavior makes her susceptible to those with bad intentions. She shies away from violence, as she's well aware she isn't much use in a fight. She's small and not built for battle, as well as disliking the concept of physical altercations. Piper is extremely resourceful and knows how to utilize the land around her- she's grown up solitary for most of her young life, and has taught herself a variety of tools and skills that prove quite useful.

History
Piper was born in a barn that belonged to an elderly farmer. The old man unfortunately passed away when Piper was a few months old and, because most of the animals there relied on a human to feed and care for them, a large portion of them did not survive. This included Piper's own mother. She and her older brother managed to survive into adolescence, living off the land and learning how to hunt. She was the provider, he was the defender. An encounter with a wolf left Piper's brother fatally wounded, and having no choice for survival other than to run, she took off and fled in the direction of the reservation. She's remained on the outskirts ever since, only occasionally wandering right into town when resources fall short.

Relationships
Ryker (friend, played by me)
The shepherd reminds her a lot of her elder brother, and so she is naturally very drawn to him. She thinks he takes life much too seriously though.

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"Beware of pretty faces that you find, a hypnotizing face can hide an evil mind."
H E X A

Age
3 Years Old.

Gender
Biologically and Psychologically Female.

Sexuality
Pansexual.

Species
Canadian Grey Wolf.

Role
Blood Moon Howlers Huntress.

Appearance
Hexa, much to her satisfaction, is quite a sight to behold. She's tall and long-legged, carrying quite a bit of lean-muscled strength in those willowy limbs of hers while still maintaining a feminine physique. She's a black phase colouration, mostly a deep inky black along each tip of fur but revealing a paler, silvery undercoat beneath. Her face is the darkest, entirely jet-black and hiding her facial features like a mask. Her coat is fairly short and sleek, only growing longer around her face and feathering slightly around her elbows and tail. Peering out from the darkness of her face are a set of narrow, almost feline-like dark grey irises. She is an alluring creature, but certainly not easily approachable.

Personality
Hexa is mostly a quiet presence within the pack, but she's ever observant. Not much escapes this devil's sly eyes and she's quite gifted at picking up the slightest body language shifts, using this to her advantage in some rather devious ways. She has a tendency to insert herself in business that is not her own, if only to provide herself with some sort of benefit. She's got a slick attitude and a silver-tongue and she isn't afraid to use it, quick to manipulate and use if it means less work for her. Fearless, and quite good with her occupation, but she can be rather lazy. Again, she'd rather con someone else in doing work for her if she can get away with it. She's pretty judgemental and insists on only involving herself with a select few, certainly turning her nose up at the omegas or those who aren't as talented as she is. She's snarky and terribly sarcastic, though she wouldn't dare rake her razor tongue in the alpha's direction.

History
Born within the pack, Hexa's past isn't anything too out of the ordinary. She was a determined little thing and sprouted into a quick and efficient hunter. Her parents were pretty unsupportive and weren't a huge influence in her life, leaving her feeling rather unwanted. Aside from that, her aggression and manipulative behaviour hasn't stemmed from anything drastic. She's just a natural bitch. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Other
Why did the cat wear a dress?
She was feline fine.

"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost."

: Name :
Cato
[Latin/Greek name meaning 'intelligent; wise; shrewd']

: Age :
4 Years, 8 Months

: Gender :
Male
[Identifies as such.]

: Breed :
Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever

: Sexuality :
Bisexual & Biromantic

: Pack :
The Rez Dogs

: Rank :
Pet - Council Member

: Appearance :
An average-sized Toller, he's roughly twenty inches at the shoulders and weighs forty-five pounds. He has a very friendly face, with a tapered muzzle, wedge-shaped ears and a soft-looking mouth, both characteristics of his breed. But just because he looks approachable doesn't mean he can't bite, and he certainly has strong jaws. He sports a double-coat that is straight and of medium length, protecting him well from water and the cold. His fur is mostly a dark golden shade, but he has a white blaze running from his chin down to his chest. He also has a white patch on his nose and the tip of his tail. He has dark amber eyes.

: Personality :
A true retriever breed: Cato is intelligent and endlessly loyal. He's definitely a lot more of a softie than other dogs on the Council are, and that's something he's occasionally teased about, but he just wants what's best for every dog on the Rez. He has a very positive outlook on life, and he tries to see the best in everyone. He isn't one to hold grudges and will give anyone, no matter their reputation a chance (or two) to prove that they are trustworthy. Some may say that Cato is too trusting, and he may just have to learn that there are dogs out there that will take his kindness for granted the hard way. But even if he may seem like it, he isn't completely naive. He often comes up with good ideas, and his word within the Council is respected enough. He's relatively easy-going, and where some would collapse under stressful situations, he can often gather himself and start thinking of solutions quickly. But in recent times, with the threat of an attack from the wolves looming over the Rez dogs' heads, Cato may be in a bit of trouble. He's been a pet dog his entire life and isn't the best fighter.

: History :
Though Cato doesn't have any strong memories of his mother, he knows she was a pet as well. He was the result of an accidental litter after a poor human family bought two Tollers and didn't have the money to neuter them. It shaped out to be a very tragic incident, and only hours after Cato and his littermates were born their owners dumped them in a drain, hoping they would die off on their own. They didn't stay outside for very long, an elderly woman wandering past had heard them and taken them into her home, but it was a cold time of year and it proved to be too much for puppies less than a day old. Despite the woman's efforts, all of the puppies except for Cato passed away.

Luckily for him, he doesn't remember much of the traumatic experience, and he went on to live a good life. The elderly woman who'd found him decided to keep him, giving him a warm bed, good food, and plenty of affection. In return, Cato turned out to be great for her health, keeping her active with loads of walks and fresh air. Even better yet is that the woman's grandchildren would often come to visit him, showering him with attention and resulting in endless hours of playing fetch in the park. It was the ideal life for any dog, but Cato would always feel a pang of guilt when he saw a lonely stray wandering by his house, and though joining the Council to help them was a thought that briefly crossed his mind, he never went through with it. That changed when the tensions with the pack of feral dogs increased, and when he heard about the threat of the wolves it was the final push. He felt he needed to do something.

He's only been a member of the council for a bit over a week now, but he's already proving to be a useful member. He's put forth a few good ideas, and he's donated a fair amount of his extra dog kibble to the strays.

: Crush :
None

: Mate :
None

: Offspring :
None, and has no interest in them

: Theme Song :
Firebird by Milky Chance

: Other :
Why did the dinosaur cross the road?
Becuase the chicken joke wasn't invented yet!



"Of course I'm trying to trick you! That's the way of the world! Everyone runs around with their secrets and their schemes, trying to outwit everyone else."

: Name :
Lia
[Greek name meaning 'bearer of good news']

: Age :
3 Years, 9 Months

: Gender :
Female
[Identifies as such]

: Species :
Eurasian Wolf

: Sexuality :
Heterosexual & Heteroromantic

: Pack :
Blood Moon Howlers

: Appearance :
WIP

: Personality :
WIP

: History :
WIP

: Crush :
None

: Mate :
None

: Offspring :
None

: Theme Song :
Goodnight Gotham by Rihanna

: Other :
What's a cheerleader's favorite drink?
Rootbeer.

----------------------------------------------------------------

: RP Sample :

[From this roleplay. I changed some parts near the end.]

A black-pelted, shadowy figure moved elegantly through the foliage by the side of the beach, carefully avoiding areas that were more sandy than others. Unlike many other of the dogs in the group, Angerona wasn't a big fan of this new, temporary territory. The openness made her uncomfortable, and the salty smell of the water invaded her senses. So that was why she tried to focus her attention on another, more subtle smell laced into the saline scent of the beach - cats. A rush of excitement ran through the fae as she thought of the upcoming battle with the felines. Being rather young compared to other soldiers, she hadn't been able to fight much yet, and she was eager to prove that she was a worthy opponent on the battlefield. She understood that Remus and Romulus definitely needed as much time as they could get to plan out their battle strategy, as recently they hadn't been doing very well, but she felt like a fight was a perfect distraction from her current issue. It had only been about a week since her father had run off, and since then Angerona had been spending far too much time pacing around on her own, lost in her thoughts. Her gaze slowly moved over to Remus, who was calling for the soldiers to gather to be sorted into hunting groups. As she made her way over she noticed with a huff of amusement that Romulus, her other General, seemed to have the same opinion on the beach that she did.

With any luck, Angerona would be able to slip away unnoticed and not have to join a group. She didn't exactly mind the company of others, and if another dog asked her to join them she wouldn't say no, but she just preferred to hunt on her own. She was aware that it came with a few safety issues, but she was confident that she'd be able to find enough to feed herself on her own.

"Ladies and Gents this is the moment you've waited for."
~Validus~
[Origin: Latin. Meaning: Mighty/Powerful]

Age
3.5 years

Gender/Sex
Male

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Breed/Species
Rottweiler Mix

Pack
Wild Fangs

Rank
Hunter

Personality
Validus is the type of 'nothing is impossible' dog and hopes that one day the wolves figure it out as well. He will do his best to achieve the best possible outcome(s) of a tough situation and not back down or quit. He is a very determined dog and usually ends up accomplishing whatever he sets out to do, whether it be a simple hunt or a task by the lead hunter/beta. His emotions are usually steadfast and so are his thoughts, meaning that the mix can be a bit stubborn at times or even unwilling to do something that goes against what he was taught as a pup. Being stubborn can definitely get on other dog's/wolf's nerves but he doesn't really pay it much heed, choosing to instead find a better way to solve the issue.

History
The young dog was born on the reservation, his father a member of the council while his mother was a pet. Just after he had turned one, his father was killed while trying to break up a fight between two other reservation dogs. After a while Validus came to the conclusion that he didn't want to be someone else's pet, like his mother was, and he could not longer stand seeing the same dogs who took his father's life wander free as if nothing had ever happened. The council wouldn't act because nothing could be proven, just that the older dog had wandered into the wrong area at the wrong time. Of course the two other dogs wouldn't say anything, not wanting to risk anything due to an accident in the heat of the moment, so they stayed quiet and life continued on. Disgusted with the council's attitude towards the incident, Validus left the reservation only weeks later and wandered around for a few months before running into the Wild Fangs pack.

Relationships
Crush: Open
Mate: Open
Offspring: None

Theme Song
The Greatest Show by Hugh Jackman (ft. Zac Efron, Zendaya, and Keala Settle)

Other
What do you call a cow with three legs? Lean Beef!
Image Source

"Never apologize for your actions. Not because others see it as a weakness, but because you shouldn't have to. How you react is part of who you are and if others can't accept it, then they will never accept you for your true self. Wearing a mask isn't worth their approval."
~Strider~
[In various Germanic forms the meaning is 'strive/make a strong effort']

Age
4 years

Gender/Sex
Female

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Breed/Species
Wolf

Pack
Blood Moon Howlers

Rank
Hunter

Personality
Strider isn't afraid to get her paws a bit dirty, whether it be the blood of another creature or even just a simple task given by the betas. She will do what is needed of her to survive and doesn't really consider the feelings of other pack members. The she-wolf doesn't need to worry about finding a mate and having pups, thanks to the alpha's rules, so she spends a good part of her time just trying to stay on the pack alpha's/beta's good side. She respects them, even resents one or two at rough times, but stays loyal as is her nature. If a wolf proves themselves to be a strong leader and able to keep a pack functioning, then she would rather follow them then live the life of a loner. Her top priority isn't to make friends, she even pushes others away if she feels them getting too close without meaning to, but if it happens then why should the she-wolf complain that she has someone to talk to?

History
Strider wasn't born into the pack like some others were. Instead she was born to a pair of loners and even lived as one for the first year of her life. When she had stumbled upon the Blood Moon Howlers, the young wolf was unsure and kept her distance for a while. Even though she was offered the chance to join the pack, Strider hung back and observed them from a distance. Seeing how the pack functioned as a whole, what the punishments were for certain things, and whether or not the alpha was fit to lead a well organized pack. After about 5 months the she-wolf figured that being apart of a pack gave her a higher chance for survival, and with winter coming fast, decided to reconvene with the alpha male and accept his proposal. During her time with the other wolves the she-wolf learned multiple lessons, some a bit harsher than others, but eventually found a place where she could stand on her own four paws in the pack.

Being a hunter wasn't always easy work however, especially when the alpha does not like to be disappointed. Instead of hunting for the entirety of the pack, like normal, the hunters only found food for the alphas and even endured the wrath of their leader(s) if enough food was not supplied; even more so when the pair had pups to feed. But with each harsh word, each punishment that meant to break others into submission, Strider grew stronger as well as smarter. She quickly learned where good hunting spots were in the difficult winters, where the best prey hid during the heat of the afternoon in summertime, even learning how to steal another local predator's kill when she was down on her luck. As long as she had something to give to the alphas when she returned from a hunt, then she was satisfied and it made her seem even better when other hunters would come up empty pawed.

Relationships
Crush: Open
Mate: Open
Offspring: None/Not allowed

Theme Song
The Greatest Showman - This Is Me

Other
What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground Beef!
Image Source

RP Sample: ((This is the intro to one of my more recent Rps on a site called Wajas. Average length depends on how creative I'm feeling and whats going on around my character. I will not respond unless I have enough time to think over what I want to post.))

The bull rope was gripped tight in his hand, the leather of the glove rubbing against his skin as the bull beneath shifts from hoof to hoof. It was growing antsy in this small pen as one of it's horns bangs loudly against the metal surrounding both man and beast, earning a chuckle to their left and another a couple pens down. All were waiting while the tension was rising quickly, anticipation felt by everyone there. Finally, after what seems like hours, a bell lets out two short sharp rings before the gate to the pen is quickly shoved open and the bull automatically runs out. It needed no encouragement to escape the small space for something a lot bigger. The arena wasn't giant, instead it was more modest in size while the dirt beneath the bull's hooves was a nice dark reddish-brown color.

The audience cheers as the bull starts to buck, the flank strap put on it was obviously serving it's purpose, it's kicks hard and causing it's backside to fly well up into the air. Holding on for dear life Al keeps his other hand high in the air for the judges to see, making sure fight against the small voice in the back of his head telling him to grab on with both hands. If both hands were to grip the rope then that was it. He would be disqualified and the contest, along with all of the prize money, would be nothing but a distant dream in his memory. The bull continues to buck wildly and the rope continues to hold true, not slipping and not loosening; 4 more seconds left. While the bull rope was holding steady, something else was not. His hand had begun to slip out from underneath, no longer fully between the rope and the bull's back. His fingers tighten as he fights to slide the rope back into the center of his palm, but as if the bull can see what is happening on it's back the beast gives one last kick; much more powerful than the last.

As the back hooves land solidly back onto the ground so does Al's body hit the dirt just feet to the animal's right. He had lost any grip with that last buck and had accepted that there was just no way he was going to keep hold. It can sometimes be more dangerous to try and hold on. While your body is flown off the bull the hand refuses to let go and you end up dangling from the bull's side, in full range of the horns. Even though the points were duller than normal it can still cause damage, especially with the animal's powerful neck leading the way. Al looses any breath he still had in his lungs as his body hits the ground, face up to the ceiling of the building they were in. His vision goes a little blurry as he attempts to stand and move away from the bull, the arena staff already riding over on horses to rope the bull. During a failed attempt to get to his feet Al kneels on the dirt and tries to catch his breath when a sudden movement catches his eye. The bull is still full of energy and apparently looking to pick a fight, it's black eyes fixed on the man in the dirt.

***

Al wakes with a sudden start, slightly jumping before his body realizes just how much pain it was in. His eyes open to a dark, unfamiliar and unpleasantly cold, room that resembles a small kitchen. His body protests as the young man tries to sit up, the tiles underneath radiating a cold that he didn't want to feel any longer. Gritting his teeth his eyes tear up slightly and he has to close his eyes or risk the chance of seeing the room spin around like some cheap amusement park ride. Minutes pass before he is able to slowly lift his eyelids, a pang of pain spreading from his head down to his side as he just sits there for a moment. Low light flickers from the doorway of another room that seems to have some type of candle or lantern inside, voices drifting over to where Al is. He takes a hand, rubbing both of his eyes, before finally looking down to see what is causing the pain in his side, but suddenly wishes he had just kept it a mystery. Blood trickles from the wound and he figures he must have re-opened it in the effort to sit up. But wait...when did he acquire such a thing? There's nothing in his memory to support having a wound like this. No sudden bar fight, wild animal attack, or accident in general.

The young man tries to swallow but instead it gets caught in his very dry throat as he glances around. Indeed he is in a small kitchen, but how did he get there? This wasn't his friend's or parent's house, and it definitely wasn't his apartment. Despite the fact that he was able to force himself to sit up, his head pounded with a headache, his side hurt much more than expected, and his entire body felt stiff from the cold. He had no idea where he was, how long he had been out for, and no clue who those voices belonged to. He was almost tempted to stand up and creep over to the doorway, if it wasn't for the fact that his legs didn't want to move at the moment.

"Saying 'I didn't expect anything' doesn't mean you didn't expect something"

Name
Adonis

Age
2 years, 11 months

Gender/Sex
Female

Sexuality
Pansexual

Appearance
Adonis is a cream colored fae, with flecks of grey, browns, golds, and blacks, the normal color of most grey wolves. She is quite a large wolf, with strong legs and an even stronger bite. Scars mark her body up and down, from sparring or punishment, it doesn't matter. Her body is sleek and athletic, topped off with lean muscle for running after prey. She is still a bit smaller than most wolves due to her lack of food, but she is still larger than the average dog.

Her piercing yellow eyes glitter like aggressive stars, ready to pounce.

Breed/Species
95% Grey Wolf - 5% Timber Wolf

Pack
The Wolves

Rank
Omega

Personality
Adonis is obviously quite mean and cruel towards dogs due to her upbringing, but she has become closer towards them due to her ranking. She is a fierce fighter, witty and sly, which makes it easy to bribe others into bending to her will. She is a bit more friendly than other wolves in her pack, but it's hidden beneath a plethora of scars and punishments.

History
Trigger warning: Incest and abuse
Adonis was born from her mother and father, which turned out to be her cousin. It didn't affect her as much as it should've, but once her father's parents found out, they were furious, which resulted in the ultimate demise of her father.

Her mother, however, went into a state of depression. She barely ate, moved, or talked. She left Adonis to die in the cold before dying herself. A young female dog found her, and it turns out she had just lost a small litter due to the winter and her mate's surprise of finding them. The young dog weaned young Adonis, and when she turned one year, she started growing larger than most dogs her age. She could often be found tussling with other dogs, until one day, a simple tussle got out of hand. She accidently bit too close to a much younger pup's neck, crushing his windpipe.

Adonis was banished from the dogs, and went on her own for months, only surviving off of carcasses she found occasionally. Then she found the wolves, and proved her worthiness.

Crush
None atm! PM me!

Mate
None atm! PM me!

Offspring
Hopefully not... O_O

Theme Song
Ruelle - War of Hearts

Other

Sources
Source!