IP: 172.72.181.20
Posted on January 2, 2016 at 03:42:31 AM by g r y m m
NAME ;; grymm .
GENDER ;; female .
AGE ;; five .
COAT COLOR ;; black .
MARKINGS ;; strawberry face mask, dorsal stripe, streaks that resemble rib bones as well as some frosting on her chest and at the end of her tail .
EYE COLOR ;; black .
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION ;; very lean and very, very petite – she almost appears to be malnourished. her body resembles that of a greyhound with a thin stomach and a sloping, deep chest. the fur on her neck, chest and shoulders is extremely thick and long. she also has a ring of curly hair around the lower part of her chest to her shoulders. the fur from her ribs to her tail, however is shorter – leaving off with a very long and thick tail. grymm was the runt of her litter and only stands 20 inches tall and only weighs 28 pounds .
IMPRINTABILITY ;; yes .
PLAYER ALIAS ;; monroe .
CHATANGO ;; M0NR0E [with zeros] .
WORD COUNT MINIMUM ;; two-hundred .
There wasn't much that had happened within her life or within the confines of her twisted and oh so exciting mind that left any sort of pressure on her dainty shoulders. She found herself to be perfectly imperfect just as everyone else was and was curious to know what made so many others fret as they did.
Every creature she encounter had sadness – even if it were so minuscule – dwelling in their eyes. She only assumed they felt it that much stronger within their hearts, haunting every last turn of their surely-exhausted psyche and heart. She wondered too, how it was that they allowed it to dictate how they live.
She was care-free with no obligation and no stress. She was allowed to do as she pleased and she did exactly that – not living up to any standard and not tainting herself for any soul or task. She had not a clue how to care any how, she hadn't a clue to process this herself.
Some would say she has an disadvantage.
Grymm doesn't think so.
She enjoyed this, preening something already beautiful.
The voodoo doll pressed her breast against him as she tugged at his tendrils. And she cooed when he complimented her in return – digging her lips passed his locks of mane and to his flesh. She brushes her upper lip against before pinching a fold of his skin between dull teeth.
It is quick but she does attempt to draw blood – even if it is just a tad.
She does not pull away but rather mumbles her response into him. ”Thank you!” She giggles before finally pulling away and peering upon him. ”Who're you?” She says with a blink and a tip of her head – pearls rolling over her face.
i long to kiss the image of your death