May 17, 2015 13:42:22 GMT
Post by West on May 17, 2015 13:42:22 GMT
‹ Name ›
West Frostpelt.
‹ Age ›West Frostpelt.
Three years.
‹ Gender ›
Male.
‹ Rank ›
Beta. (permission from administrator granted)
‹ Species ›
Arctic wolf.
‹ Pack ›
Deepwood. (Shriners)
‹ Appearance ›
Draped in a pelt as frigid and pallid as snow itself, this arctic wolf is quite special among his kind. He weighs in at a healthy 112 pounds, and stands proudly above the crowd at a lengthy six feet. The canine is well-rounded and fit for any sort of task that his alpha may choose to set upon him, whether it be something as simple as recon, or the daunting task of eliminating threats to his beloved pack. He was gifted with a unique birthmark in which a patch of fur along the middle of his chest came out black, perfectly shaped as a paw print.
‹ Personality ›
West is quite the lionhearted barker, and will sacrifice even his own life for the ones whom he holds close to his heart. Although his slightly-rugged appearance may cause new faces to keep their distance, all he would sought after is to be taken in by a kind pack whose ideals and values closely resemble his own. Truthfully, once you get to know the guy, he's quite the teddy bear. Normally, he keeps his temper under control in order to maintain the best state of mind, anticipating the moment in which decision-making skills must be at their peak, granting him the ability to process thoughts and execute any plan that he had fathomed and run by the alpha in mere seconds.
‹ History ›
As a pup, his father made it a point to bury it in West's head that he would someday become alpha of their pack, which, at the time, was a whopping fifty-strong. And although he held little to no interest in fulfilling the role, he spent a good deal of his young life in training for the day he would rule over the horde of wolves. Much to his dismay, one day their pack had been nearly annihilated by a band of approximately twenty hunters. Only two from their pack survived, the rest having been taken by death's clutch at the merciless hands of the poachers who sought their fur. He fell into a slump, and even contemplated whether or not his existence should press on, or come to a simple halt. After meeting a few other lone wolves, he concluded that it would be for the better if he continued life, regardless of the great loss. Obviously, there was a reason he survived, and he firmly believed that life had something in store for him.
‹ Talents ›
He's a natural born hunter, and his senses surpass those of most other wolves.
Habits: When angered or down-in-the-dumps, West tends to wander off a bit, taking time to collect himself. He's also very uptight about the maintenance of his pelt, and is very picky with whom he allows to touch the snowy fuzz.
‹ Sexuality ›
Closeted homosexual. He's never openly admitted to anything of the sort, but he seeks only the company of another male nonetheless.
‹ Family ›
All have been decimated, sadly.
‹ Mate ›
Shade, the alpha of Deepwood.
‹ Pups ›
Trolol, he's gay.
‹ Friends ›
Can I get these at GameStop?
‹ Enemies ›
Grr, world domination.
‹ Crush ›
Shade, duh. C'mon guys, was it not obvious? Lol.
‹ Where did you hear about Wolf Valley? ›
The inter-webs. Derp.
