lay with me my dear, in the evening clear

IN CHARCTER
NAME | coast
AGE | five
SEX | male

EYES | glassy, pale blue
HEIGHT | forty inches
WEIGHT | one hundred and sixty pounds

COAT | A tad on the shaggy side. His coat stands up in odd clumps along his ruff. He is a light colored wolf, with a completely white head and neck. His coloring brindles into gray with flecks of black along his shoulders, back, and hips. His sides and legs fade to a light tan in splotches, and his tail is tipped in black.
BUILD | tall, but very lanky. Coast has the potential to be a bulky presence, but he is underfed and rangy. His legs will always be long for his body, with bony paws and a loping gait. He has a certain accidental grace about him, though never quite perfectly in sync with himself.

PERSONALITY | an only child, Coast grew up with rather selfish tendencies. He values himself above almost all others, and won’t hesitate to throw others under the bus to ensure that he gets the best deal. He also tends to be impulsive, often acting before thinking because he is so sure that he is right. Somehow he often manages to get away with it, charming those who meet him with a silver tongue and flattery.
HISTORY | born along a rocky beach, Coast earned his name. Both parents were a presence throughout his adolescence, and as the only pup of their first litter he received their undivided attention. They created a pack of three for some time, but Coast eventually left the ocean to strike out on his own, despite his family’s protests.
IMPRINTABILITY | yes

SAMPLE |

So many.

Occasionally there were communities. Pack territories. But this was a mob. An overflowing, overwhelming, complete flood of his kind, unlike anything he’d experienced during his travels.

So many wolves. Coast’s nostrils flared in and out quickly, his head hung low to peer down the grassy valley. The grips of a heady summer clung to his pale coat, clumping his mats more so than usual. His pink tongue slipped between his teeth in a pant, protesting the harsh sunlight on an almost perfectly clear day.

For a moment, he padded back and forth along the edge of the steep hollow, wildflowers gently puffing pollen against his legs. He had scented this mass of creatures some time ago, but it was all coming to a central locale. Here, now. He chuckled quietly to himself, and abruptly began to descend into the valley, toes gripping the dry soil. Well, what the hell? What could it hurt? This land interested him.

A lone wisp of a cloud drifted high above the sun. Coast squinted accusingly at it as he came to the base of the hollow, knowing it would never offer shade. A water source gurgled nearby, and Coast licked his nose thoughtfully, turning in the direction of the sound. His long gait carried him quickly to a stream that babbled hungrily over rounded rocks covered in delicate strings of algae. Coast leaned in to drink, his front paws caught in the gentle current, soft white ears swiveling to catch the sounds of the world around him.

The wolf leaned back on his haunches, allowing his front paws to remain in the water. He gazed across the stream, quiet blue eyes searching for signs of life among the long strands of grass. Hunger rumbled anxiously in his stomach and he sighed. Living life alone wasn’t exactly as he had expected. Self-sufficiency had sounded romantic perhaps…but he found himself missing the ease of companions to find food, shelter, company…well the company he could leave or take. Images of his mother, gray as the cliffs along the shore, drifted absently through his mind. His father moved beside her, russet and white and angry as the stormy sea. Coast grimaced and sucked his teeth, banishing the memories.

He waded a few more steps into the stream. Screw companionship. He’d go kill a rabbit. Or something.

OUT OF CHARACTER
NAME | wine
RULES READ | yes
WORD MINIMUM | two hundred
HOW DID YOU FIND US | played here a long time ago
CHATANGO | whineywine

i'll be dreaming in, my paper pale skin