Post by Mo-danga' on Nov 17, 2007 13:11:54 GMT -5
Character’s name: Ralph
Age: 3 years, 20 years maturity
Breed: Gray Fox
Gender: A real bouy!
Alliance: Whichever side you need more foxes on. :]
Desired Rank: I'll be SOS, if theirs no longer a need for them, Private.
Personality: When first entering the war Ralph will be quite unshakable, he will stick to the optimistic side and goof off frequently. Never one to take anything seriously it'll take effort or a traumatic experience to steer the fox the way you want him to go. However he shows acute understanding to the world around him and his intuition has saved him more then once. So though he is thick-headed, obnoxious, and sometimes even a little rude, he is undoubtedly a worthy combat partner.
Appearance: Tall stilt legs supported the male, connected by stringy, loose muscles. He wasn't much for strength, but he excelled in stamina and wits. Standing a full 1' 7" at his shoulders he towered above smaller breeds such as the Fennec. Fellow carried himself in a prideful manner, head high, ears erect and tail straight out behind him, even raised a little, but the massive weight of the appendage prevented full liftage. His fur, thick and un-matted, consisted of several hues, mainly tawny but at the belly tips of the fur it faded to a light cream. Skull cap, neck, legs, and haunches were tinted in shades of gray. What was odd is that on the back of his thighs and the top of his tail there was a bold streak of white against the gray. A genetic throwback, perhaps?
History: Ralph was the middle child of his litter of three, and decently sized. He knew it too, constantly pushing around his two sisters until they loathed him. Ralph didn't seem to care. As most foxes go he was quite brilliant, having caught a pattern of where humans set their steel traps he avoided them. His youngest sibling wasn't as lucky, she died of blood-loss trying to chew her leg off. Ralph regretted not being there to help, even though he couldn't have done anything to help her. For awhile he avoided everyone, until the war had reached his attention. With a new, and determined outlook he strove for it. Or maybe his mindset was not determination, but repent, for his siblings death. If he helped this cause he'd be saving foxes, which was more then he could do for her.
Picture:
IC: Peace. Currently the word was a far fetched idea in the heat of battle. Like a crazy dream or enigma even. Though that is how he felt at the moment. He had found his peace of mind this early morning, dew still coating the grasses and trees, sometimes stricken by the sun in such a way that they sparked in a radiant glitter. It made him realize how little the affect of the war had on the land. When the humans were involved trees were knocked down, or set on fire, and large animals killed by the dozens for food, they were quite destructive. However the earth around them didn't care about their war, it continued to grow peacefully and nuetrally around them, utterly unaffected.
A sigh escaped his slender maw and he arose, leaning forward in a slouching dog stretch before padding a ways to a brook, there he sat by the waters edge and stared at the rippling water. One desired to hunt, to catch a fish, however he wasn't hungry, and he had been scolded for overkilling before. Resisting the urge he did the only thing he could to repress it, pounce. Anything that moved was soon pounced into submission by the rowdy fox. With each pounce he went further and further from the stream and closer to exhaustion and the promise of sleep. He has sucssefully conqured his urge...
Age: 3 years, 20 years maturity
Breed: Gray Fox
Gender: A real bouy!
Alliance: Whichever side you need more foxes on. :]
Desired Rank: I'll be SOS, if theirs no longer a need for them, Private.
Personality: When first entering the war Ralph will be quite unshakable, he will stick to the optimistic side and goof off frequently. Never one to take anything seriously it'll take effort or a traumatic experience to steer the fox the way you want him to go. However he shows acute understanding to the world around him and his intuition has saved him more then once. So though he is thick-headed, obnoxious, and sometimes even a little rude, he is undoubtedly a worthy combat partner.
Appearance: Tall stilt legs supported the male, connected by stringy, loose muscles. He wasn't much for strength, but he excelled in stamina and wits. Standing a full 1' 7" at his shoulders he towered above smaller breeds such as the Fennec. Fellow carried himself in a prideful manner, head high, ears erect and tail straight out behind him, even raised a little, but the massive weight of the appendage prevented full liftage. His fur, thick and un-matted, consisted of several hues, mainly tawny but at the belly tips of the fur it faded to a light cream. Skull cap, neck, legs, and haunches were tinted in shades of gray. What was odd is that on the back of his thighs and the top of his tail there was a bold streak of white against the gray. A genetic throwback, perhaps?
History: Ralph was the middle child of his litter of three, and decently sized. He knew it too, constantly pushing around his two sisters until they loathed him. Ralph didn't seem to care. As most foxes go he was quite brilliant, having caught a pattern of where humans set their steel traps he avoided them. His youngest sibling wasn't as lucky, she died of blood-loss trying to chew her leg off. Ralph regretted not being there to help, even though he couldn't have done anything to help her. For awhile he avoided everyone, until the war had reached his attention. With a new, and determined outlook he strove for it. Or maybe his mindset was not determination, but repent, for his siblings death. If he helped this cause he'd be saving foxes, which was more then he could do for her.
Picture:
IC: Peace. Currently the word was a far fetched idea in the heat of battle. Like a crazy dream or enigma even. Though that is how he felt at the moment. He had found his peace of mind this early morning, dew still coating the grasses and trees, sometimes stricken by the sun in such a way that they sparked in a radiant glitter. It made him realize how little the affect of the war had on the land. When the humans were involved trees were knocked down, or set on fire, and large animals killed by the dozens for food, they were quite destructive. However the earth around them didn't care about their war, it continued to grow peacefully and nuetrally around them, utterly unaffected.
A sigh escaped his slender maw and he arose, leaning forward in a slouching dog stretch before padding a ways to a brook, there he sat by the waters edge and stared at the rippling water. One desired to hunt, to catch a fish, however he wasn't hungry, and he had been scolded for overkilling before. Resisting the urge he did the only thing he could to repress it, pounce. Anything that moved was soon pounced into submission by the rowdy fox. With each pounce he went further and further from the stream and closer to exhaustion and the promise of sleep. He has sucssefully conqured his urge...
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