Character Bio

NAME
Goblin

AGE
3 years

GENDER
Male

EYE COLOR
A pale seafoam green

APPEARANCE
39" at the shoulder, 168 lbs, Dark slate grey with a blue hue when illuminated, A taller wolf but coupled with a medium build and robust chest/neck.

PERSONALITY
Goblin is an enigmatic and broody soul. He is quiet and slightly antisocial though he craves the structure and confidence a pack provides. There is an aggressie side looming just below the surface, ready to be triggered but so far it has been mostly smothered. And despite his haunting nature, he is loyal and dependable to those who demand it.

HISTORY
One of the countless offpsing of Erinyes and Azazel, leaders of the ruthless mountain pack known as Kancaska far from this place. Goblin was raised in a territory of blood and darkness. His home was a harsh unforgiving place wich caused him to grow into a wolf that could handle himself in unpredictable circumbstances. One had to be quick witted and feirce in order to survive and thrive. But it was also a very tightly knitt family, allowing him to learn the importance of loyalty. He left those perilous ridges the summer of his second year though, for his siblings were many and he knew it was unlikely he would be favored as an heir as many of his brothers were far more vicious then himself. Since that day he has lived as a vagabond in search of a place worthy to put down roots, a place with leaders worthy to follow. His social skills are seriously lacking, and he is seriously slow to trust. But he needs to confines and familiarity of packlife and that fact has driven him to these crossroads.

IMPRINTABILITY
No

OOC
Saosin

OOC Information
(for new members)

SAMPLE

Eventide had long since descended over the blue mountains of southern Washington, the last of the firelit horizon had succumbed to embers and soon nothing more than a velvety violet dusk which lingered like the mists that chaperoned it. The stars… captured fireflies in a web of indigo eternity were not as bold as one might think, their luminosity challenged by the artificial lights of the surrounding cities. But still they burned an unearthly glow, an almost sad dance through the heavens that played on despite how many eyes might be upturned to watch them. The late autumn air was crisp as it billowed through the ageless evergreens and rode the undulating topography like a ghostly presence which always remained unseen but forever felt. It rustled the boughs of the perennial firs, toyed with their long delicate needles and swung their clusters of cones in disarray. Grouse could be heard far off, chortling alongside some shallow stream while the insects rose up like a symphony around them. This… this is what had called to her old bones. The very scent of soil and spruce, of old leaflitter and moist green moss…. Nature. It had always been Venetia’s home, long ago in the highlands of Scandinavia and especially now in this place so alien to her.It had been nearly a month now since she had arrived in the tri-cities area and around half that since she had dedicated herself to Cinead Dornan and the other wolves of Richland. Within her soul, the wolf had cried out for the security of the pack, it had demanded it and Venetia over the centuries had learned to heed that voice instead of fight it. The human side recoiled from their eyes, their touch, seeking the shadowy outskirts as best she could. Perhaps in time she might allow herself some semblance of comradery beyond that of the wolf’s desires. But it was hard, so terribly hard for her to make that kind of emotional commitment. She had lived for eons and lost far too much to give whatever of her was left. It all seemed to crumble away like sand through her fingers. The difficulty lie in that the dominant wolf within her yearned for the proximity of others, while the fragile human would rather seek the solace of the shadows and the quiet of the night. She had not even committed to a house as of yet and remained at a nearby hotel while she decided, the bulk of her belongings awaiting shipment as soon as she could provide an address for it to be shipped. Always things were hanging… decisions left to be made …. She seemed to live her life as though she were afraid of endings, any endings at all really. The sale of her old property, the purchase of a new one, it all seemed so binding and final and she hated it.The moon did not hang pregnant in the eastern sky, instead nearly half glowed from behind dreary thunderheads that spoke of the possibility of rain. Even the air scented of moisture in this arid forest and even hinted at the possibility of snow as winter breathed frosted gasps against the back of their necks. There was elegance in the powerful black phase wolf’s stride, an age-old dance of prowess and primal confidence. Her gait seemed to eat up the layered forest floor as she jogged in an easy rhythm much like the cadence of a beating heart. She had needed this, this freedom and in so many ways a release. The forest was foreign but it opened up to her with wide arms. It offered her the bounty of its cloven spoils and the luxury of its winding canyons and deep valleys. She took her fill, swept away by the magnitude of the range and her need to dig her claws into the soil and feel grounded. The night was young and her agile body only just beginning to stretch out. It felt as though she could run forever yet somehow things never seemed to work out that way.


HAVE YOU READ THE RULES? Yes
WHAT IS OUR REQUIRED WORD MINIMUM? 200
HOW DID YOU FIND US? Back in the day I owned an rpg called Rekjavik and I always kept on eye on this place because I loved writing wolves but never got around to joining. Glad to see you are still up and running!
EMAIL heather@kaoswolf.com
CHATANGO: Saosin69
OTHER CONTACTS
Discord: Sao#2368
FB/Messenger: https://www.facebook.com/starletwitcher