Post by I.sa on Aug 7, 2010 11:02:24 GMT -5
Isa
" Is that a code for psycho bitch?"
Name: Isa
Nickname(s): None
Gender: Male
Age: 5
Species: Kilren
Eye Color: Yellow
Pelt Color: Gray, brown, white.
Physical Description: Okay, okay, so here is the lowdown on the basics of basics for Isa. The first thing you should understand, before anything else, is that he's a big boy. Sure, you could say that it's in his blood, he is a Kilren after all, so that should explain it. However, this boy pushes the limits of that ideal size and weight. Isa stands at 47 inches at the shoulder, and from nose tip to tail, he's about five feet and four inches. Now, as you would assume, with that size comes a heft weight. This wolf weighs in at a staggering 139 pounds. I know, I know, it's all like, 'argh! I'm a giant!' blah, blah, blah, but there are other issues as well. Due to his sheer size and weight, Isa is slower, bulkier, and suffers from joint pain after too much running around, mainly in his legs.
On top of this bulky, muscular wolf, there is a thick coat of fur, which is a multitude of colors. These colors range from gray, to white, to brown, it's really just an orgy of typical gray wolf colors. As that is what he resembles, though his eyes are a rather, stunning shade of bright, sun flower yellow. Along his muzzle, the coloring his a light gray, almost white, but his lips, for some reason his lips are a very prominent color. Black, as night they are, giving him an almost parrotish look to his mouth. Isa has no real scars that are all that prominent, just the usual few, that every wolf has at some point in their life.
Personality: You know, most would expect that a goliath of a wolf like Isa, is some kind of tough guy that beats the crap out of those that insult him with a sniff. No, just no. Isa is really quite a sweet guy, a little bit clueless sometimes, but a sweet guy. He's actually quite lazy, preferring to sleep as long as he can, then get up and out and explore the world. He'll wave you off with a smile on his face, and wishes you the best of luck. Despite this, when a friend or anyone, really, is in danger of some sort, he's there for them, bullying his way into their business . He's a very compassionate fellow, and to watch someone suffer needlessly, bothers him in a very real way.
Underneath the 'mister nice guy' crap, lies a very different animal. If you do manage to piss Isa off, you had better hope you're quick on your feet. He's got one hell of a crushing power in his jaws, and your face would fit perfectly there. Well, any body part actually, he's not all that picky. Isa is a berserker. In other words, he gets a taste of blood, then he's all out until anything that moves is dead. It makes him a very formidable foe, but it also a fairly predictable in his attacking pattern. He won't be concentrating on defense, it'll all be offense, which can cause a bit of damage against him.
Isa despises the fact that he loses his cool like that, making him all that more of a odd-ball. He tries to be extremely gentle with those he's around, as if to compensate for his other side. Still, like any other wolf, he's prone to his own bouts of depression and sadness, though he's not likely to let you see it, though if you ask, he won't tell you, 'oh, it's nothing', no, if you ask, you had better damn well expect a response, because he'll answer honestly.
History:
Mother: Silan
Father: Amost
Brother(s): Orlan, Oni
Sister(s): Vivana
Past/Current Mate(s): None
Offspring: None
Isa, is a little odd the the brain. You see, he doesn't remember most of his history, however, if it is because he blocked it, or if something happened to him, he's not sure. Since he doesn't remember, I'll tell you the story he can't.
Isa was born into a pack, as are most wolves, that consisted of his mother, father, and siblings, as well as an older wolf, whose name is long forgotten. He was a cheerful little puppy, normal size and weight for his breed. His older brothers, Olan and Oni, were a year older than he and his sister, and often played and cared for the rambunctious pups. It was around this time that there was a rumor going on that puppies were being stolen from their families, by humans. The fear his parents repressed, still spread to the rest of their family, and soon enough, the two youngest members of the pack were not allowed more than a hundred yards from the den, and even then they had to be supervised.
It was later in the year, during winter, the puppies' first winter, that the humans came. His parents, tried to run distractions to lead the humans away, and his older brothers, well, they tried. With two gunshots, they were removed from this world, permanently. The two puppies, were summarily removed from the den, and taken to the bad place where it all happened. What actually happened in the labs, are mere flashes of acknowledged truths.
Flash. Pain, blinding pain, why didn't it stop, ohGodwhy? Just let it end, let it end now! Flash. The feeling of steel cutting in to warm flesh of a living being, agony as the cold steel stung, like a bee sting to the vulnerable parts of a being. Flash. pain. Flash. Agony. Flash. Horror. Flash. An eternity of fear. Flash. Nothing, emptiness. Flash. Rage, hate, kill, rip, tear, blood on his tongue. Flash, fresh air, freedom, but still so much pain. Flash. Anger, hate, thoughts of slaughter, joy in the rush of killing. Stupid humans. Flash.
To be perfectly honest, the moments next are the ones where Isa's memory starts. He woke up, curled underneath a partially fallen tree, tail tucked over his nose, waiting for the morning. The moment he stood up, he nearly fell down again, shocked at just how high he was off the ground. When had he gotten this large?! He looked himself over, fear widening bright yellow eyes. He found a puddle nearby, after all it had rained that night. He spent hours near that puddle, starring at himself. The only thing that crossed his mind was, 'Who am I?'. He had no idea. It was nearly three weeks after he 'woke up' that he remembered his name. Isa. As far as he's aware, that's his real name, and there fore, he jumped on it, as quick as he could. Anything to tie him to something.
He spent almost another full year, trying to keep out of sight of other wolves, however, this didn't work too well. Eventually, after a few false starts, Isa found the pack, full of wolves like him, not normal, freaks, oddities in the world around them. The normal wolf pack, made his heart ache, however, for reasons unknown, at least, to him. We, however, shall know the reason. His sister, littermate, had been on the other side of the line, glaring at him like he was someone to be rid of. It stung him, hard, and it was frustrating to not know why. Eventually, he adapted to living the way they lived, doing what he was told, and generally keeping out of important wolves' way.
RP Example: It wasn't so much that he was a considering personality. He simply knew the characteristics of someone who had the back bone to take charge and do what must be done, regardless of the unpleasant situation that they might find themselves in. Not that he currently planned on leaving anyone to do his job at the moment, pure foolishness that would be. Besides, he had his own duties that needed to be done, and it seemed that he was the one who would be required to do them. Go figure. Ach, puppies. They were sweet, sweet, bundles of joy and love, unquestionable innocence, and a gentleness about them that could not be disputed, but, the thought of such younglings in a situation that the packs found themselves, in and it made his hackles rise. Though he was fairly sure that the young ones would be safe from any form of raid, he couldn't promise it. It made him wary, of course, more mouths to feed, and more bodies to keep count of. A duty in and of itself, but he really didn't mind. Puppies tended to not be too perceptive, in the beginning, and a rather enjoyable experience to be around. A thoughtful hum pulsed from the gray hound, as he speculatively eyed the regent. "Saccharine, when have you known me to happily welcome anything? I've heard the rumor too. Not that I'm at all pleased, at least, not about who I've heard fathered the littler."The words were laced with a tired resignation, a common tone indeed. Brown eyes narrowed at the thought of some bastard touching one his pack members in any fashion as that. He didn't care for the thought of half pack puppies, either. The slight lifting of his muzzle, however, spoke of a different story. He wasn't nearly resigned to the fate of the newcomers of his family. After another moment of silence, he turned his gaze to the dark river, before replying in earnest, "No, I welcome any pups gladly enough, my regent. Though it means more mouths to feed, and more risk should they prove adventurous."
As for puppies of his own, well, to most he had met, Who wasn't what most would think of as a father of any sort. Whether he be there for the mother and children, or not. However, it was a fairly well known secret that he enjoyed puppies. The fuzzy, wriggling masses, that gave unconditional love. It was generally around this time of year, he assumed, that most turned their thoughts towards the future. After all, spring would come soon enough, and when it did, then a new generation would be stumbling about. Who himself, had often found his thoughts wandering towards those of a family. Not that the idea was reoccurring, though it was something that danced just out of reach, seemingly forever. Now, to be honest, it wasn't just a family he was pondering about, he was male, and it was rather expected for ever creature that possessed testosterone, to think along those lines. Though, it was no excuse if you let it get to your head. As she explained about the ice, he turned his attention back to her. Hm, thicker near the shore, huh? That rang a bell, he supposed, and for a moment, he felt a rush of amusement at her constant need to be in motion. It must be horrible to not be able to dash about as you normally would, having to talk calmly to a gloomy shadow such as he.
As the wind picked up, swirling the snow about them, a shiver tore through him. For all his size and speed, he was never one to tolerate the cold warmly. It seemed to seep into your bones and never release them, turning some into frozen fools. A touch of wariness surged through him as well. He was no fool, if he was, he wouldn't be where he was right now. A prudent, power climbing canine would have used the cover of snow to their advantage. Bracing himself against the wind and snow, he did what he could to wait it out. All you really could do in these situations. When the wind died down, and the snow calmed, the gray furred leader shook himself, dislodging the thick sets of snow that had landed on him. Eying the regent, a slight smirk curled his lips. The thin tail that he possessed, whipped back and forth for a moment. Stepping forward, the frozen ice crystals crunching under his paws. His steps were slow, either calm or calculated, it was anyone's guess, until the pads of his front paws rested on surprisingly strong ice. Triangular ears flexed back, and his nose wrinkled slightly. He had never personally enjoyed the ice or cold. The hound had moved closer to her, no more than a meter or two away from the red furred dog, more beside her than in front, now. "Ah, I see what you mean, about the ice. As for the cold, right you are. If only winter were shorter. " Honey eyes were on her again, half curious. A soft laugh left Who at her irritation, and to avoid any rather sharp looks he was bound to get, he looked to the stars again, before replying with a short statement of, " Won't we all?"
Most would assume that he had some great thought process going on in his mind, from the way he seemed to drift in and out of the real world. In actuality, he found it hard to remain focused on something that was real. To him, his thoughts were a safer place to be. Coming back to reality, only when he was needed. One of the many irritating draw backs of be said leader, was that there were always quite a few things that needed his attention. At her statement, he glanced at her for a second before snorting in a rather disbelieving manner, " Your right; what a load of crock," He didn't know as much as he would prefer about his regent, but that was most definitely a lie. "Me? Well, I suppose you could say that it's many things that bring me here tonight. The stars, the river, the chance to wander as I am so often prone do. " Looking at her properly again, he snorted again, the hint of a chuckle under his breath as he continued, "Of course, those would lies. Well, for the most part. I simply came because you can always see the stars best here, at least to me," He was silent for a moment or so after that, as if he were lost in his thoughts again, wool gathering. With a deep sigh, almost regretful, or even tense about admitting it, his rather deep voice came forth again, "The stars remind me of my mother. A story she used to tell me and my sister as little ones." As soon as the words left his mouth, the lean hound turned his head away again, to watch the rather boring black water rush by, to where ever it was going.
Where Did You Find Us? On an ad, on my site.
Site or Person here Green Jasper.
Bio Sheet Created by Rachy
