Character Bio
NAME Poland

AGE 3
GENDER Male
EYE COLOR Salmon Pink. #FF7575

APPEARANCE Poland measures in at twenty-five inches tall, four foot one inche long, and eight-five pounds. He has pink eyes. His build is small but long, made for agility, speed, and endurance, rather than sheer strength. A full-blooded artic wolf, his fur is a solid base color of egg-shell white, wheat-cream, and swiss coffee. The hue gradients from lighter at the back to darker and more yellow at less sun-exposed areas like the underbelly. Like all wolves, he has black skin, and a mole here and there: on his right back-thigh front, and one on his left front-elbow. His legs are thin, dainty, delicate, his snout is long and defined, his tall and wide ears held at attention on his head.

PERSONALITY Gentle, quiet, bubbly, kind. Those are the things that are opposite him. He tends to be a prankster, and he lives for fun and games. He enjoys pressing others buttons and does so for the sheer joy of watching their reaction. That is not to say he is calloused and uncaring, as he does have desires, goals, and empathy on some levels, but his highest priority is in enjoying life, and his methods of sharing his philosophy are often unspoken, foreed demonstrations. Loyalty can be earned, respect can be feigned, dignity can be masked all for the sake of keeping the peace where needed.

HISTORY His mother Mooba was a loner, a lover of wild freedom, his father's name forgotten to him, a pack man. One extrodinarily bountiful winter, the man wandered from his own pregnant spouse to a loner in heat. The actions were what they were and no more. Mooba raised her pups alone, a single mother, with ease due to the excess in prey. When the pups were old enough, Poland, Polaris, Polar, and Panda, they wandered their own seperate ways. By now, Mooba would have a new family, and the siblings would be on the cusp on beginning their own. And so they wandered.

IMPRINTABILITY Able to imprint
OOC xexes


OOC Information
(for new members)

SAMPLE The colors of autumn were akin to the heat of winter, the smell of summer, the taste of spring. His senses felt intermingled, discombobulated, and disparate. His compass of instinct had fallen into a ravine of magnets, and his steps had begun to wind the serpentine trail of a child's scribble. He felt as though something inside him had changed, his gearshift slipped from first to second on its own. It wasn't instinct, genetics, idea, or any conscious or tangible form of thought that gripped him, but perhaps something supernatural. As if lady Fate had seized ahold of him and would only let him go one way, himself a rat in a labryinth of invisible walls, with no scent of cheese to will him forwards, and instead, only the butting of his head against a proverbial wall. But who was he to quibble with such things; it was not in his nature to fight, only to provoke to laughter. And so he turned, and followed the new path to the land of Lunar Children.

RULES READ? Yep
WORD MINIMUM? 200
HOW DID YOU FIND US? Topsites
EMAIL *
CHATANGO *
OTHER CONTACTS *
BIRTHDAY *