Please note, The Highlands & Underground is no longer active.
The Highlands
"I may be blind, but that doesn't mean I have to let it hold me back."
Basic Information:
Name: Kalikitsa Greens
Age: 17 in human years, 2 1/2 in wolf years
Gender: Female
Rank: Warrior
Mate: None as of yet; she has fallen heavily for Ryder.
Children: None as of yet.
Age: 17 in human years, 2 1/2 in wolf years
Gender: Female
Rank: Warrior
Mate: None as of yet; she has fallen heavily for Ryder.
Children: None as of yet.
Biography:
Kalikitsa is a young warrior maiden by the age of two and half years; she currently resides in Highland Pack. Her body is small and slender, with a sleek build and a lithe form, her fur ranges in a multitude of colors in her animal form, toning it down a bit in her human figure. The luxurious coat she holds is not as thick as some, and it is rather short instead of long, not flowing and fluffy. Instead, it is a bit cute and scruffy looking, with a darkly toned gray accented with a lighter hue on her face, ears, shoulders, legs, belly, and tail. The lighter gray shade correlates closely with the darker one, hugging it closely, shaping up around the splendid curves of her body. The darker tone reasserts its presence across her toes, dipping across the paws in a light, airy fashion, a lighter cream color crests her chin, chest, the underside of her neck, her belly, and rings about her tail. There is also a strange marking in the midst of her back flanks while the tail itself is the most odd appendage and the strangest feature she has. It is thick and fluffy, somewhat resembling that of a lemur with the way it rings about, the cream color complimented by the lighter gray shade, the dark one stinging across the very tip end; bangs crest her slender, finely shaped and honed face, flopping about no matter what she does to them, in fact, one strand hangs down on the opposite side of her face, kept in place by a single golden band that glistens in the light. Upon one of her front paws she wears bandages for decoration, nothing more, nothing less, other than it hides a faint scar she gained during her younger years, though she's not much on revealing that information. In her human form Kali is rather small, with a stunted stature that was brought on by malnourishment as a pup, her body retaining it's lean, finely honed form, that of a warrior through and through. Her hair is long, slipping about her face and shoulders gaily in most cases, a light ashen blonde in color, a small wreath of flowers and their stems wraps about her head in most cases, woven into the strands of hair so that it looks like it has become a part of her figure. Her skin is a pale, creamy white, she wears a flowing shirt that is open in the back, but covers any and all of her front, the sleeves hanging at her elbows, secured by bands and unattached to the rest of the outfit, flaring out at the wrist end of the sleeves, blue jeans or a darker hued version of them covering her lower body, along with sleek black or gray boots to shield her tender feet. Her eyes are a dull, silvery blue, as she is blind in both forms, has been since the very day she was born, never knowing the world or color by sight, learning by sound and smell, touch and feel alone. As a result, her ears are very good, as is her nose, she is able to find her way around with areas she's familiar with quite easily, most would never know or guess that she was in reality blind until they see her eyes, and even then some refuse to believe it. Kalikitsa is an odd bird, shy and nervous, gentle and kind, fiercely loyal and ready and willing to stand up for what she believes in, no matter the cost. Upon first meeting, she seems polite, mild mannered and well spoken, a bit shy when it comes to the spoken word, though she'll talk readily enough if given the chance to warm up to another person, though it sometimes takes her a good while to become comfortable. She loves pups, and doesn't mind answering questions, she's usually very open about herself, everything except for the deeper, darker workings of her past, which she keeps hidden from the world because she has no desire for her life story to be known. She is far from carefree, though she is rather spirited, and she has a great deal and abundance of energy, always wanting to be up and busy, moving around and doing something or other. Kalikitsa is also dependable and responsible, if she says she'll do something, one had better believe she'll do it, or die trying. Her skills include that of a warrior, she fights a bit strangely to other wolves, due to the fact of her blindness, but to her, it makes sense and is the best way for her to accomplish and achieve her goals. She uses a combination of her hearing and her smell to fight, listening for her opponents moves, testing the air for their spoor, then estimating about where they are and what structures are where, and strikes accordingly. It is a surprisingly effective system, though it does have its limits, as Kali will readily admit if asked.
Theme Song: Pending
"Sometimes the greatest darkness is inside you. You just don't realize it yet."
Basic Information:
Name: Crow Andersons
Age: 13 in human years, 1 in wolf years
Gender: Male
Rank: Apprentice
Mentor: Sarah
Mate: None as of yet; too young.
Children: Too young for such.
Age: 13 in human years, 1 in wolf years
Gender: Male
Rank: Apprentice
Mentor: Sarah
Mate: None as of yet; too young.
Children: Too young for such.
Biography:
Crow is a whelp of thirteen in his human form, and only one in his animal; he is small for his age, painfully so, due to a history that is tragic and terrible in its telling. His parents came from a highly superstitious pack, a group of wolves that believed in the slightest misdirection of the world, the smallest of omens, whether they be ill or good. His mother was discouraged from the mate ship she pursued with his sire due to a series of ill omens that Shaman and healers of the pack received, but the young fae was so very head over heels in love with Crow's father, that she ignored the warnings, even going so far as to leave the pack with her mate so that they might raise a family in peace, find a patch of earth to call their own, and raise their own little pack out away from the world. Just before setting out, however, the Shaman sought Crow's mother out, warning her that if she went through with this, if she pursued this life she so desperately sought and desired, she would come to great grief and heartache. She would bear a midnight black pup with ice blue eyes, and this child would spell doom for her family and bring about the death of them all. His mother laughed in the Shaman's face, went with her mate, and together, they set out. But she could never shake the prophecy from her mind, not fully, despite the urging of her husband and the repeated telling of herself that it was utter nonsense, and so, when the time came that she was to bear pups, the young female was full of both elation and dread. Would the Shaman's prophecy come true? Would this litter truly have the pup he had described? It would, and it did, for this pup was Crow. He was born into a litter of four, with one brother and two sisters, each older than he, for Crow was the youngest. His mother wasn't overly alarmed when she saw the black fur on Crow, for her own pelt was a deep shade of black, after all, and he might not have the icy eyes the Shaman had so acutely described. This was what his parents told themselves up until the day their pups opened their eyes for the first time. When it was seen that Crow did, indeed, have the ice blue coloring of the orbs, his parents nearly panicked; his mother wanted to throw him to the elements immediately. His father, however, wouldn't have it, and nor would his other siblings, the three other pups grouping up around Crow and growling, snarling, fiercely at the mere mention of such a terrible fate. And so, his mother consented to Crow remaining in the den with them, but as a compromise, she was allowed to name the black pup with the blue eyes. And so she named him Crow, saying that he was destined to be nothing more than a harbinger of death, doom, and despair, that he was nothing more than a messenger of gloom, and fate bound to feed on nothing but the carrion of misery and sorrow for all of his days. From then on she mistreated Crow, starving him, casting him out and away from the others, despite their protests and the way his siblings stuck up for him, attempted to make him involved in life and with the family. The crazed she-wolf blamed her youngest born son for every little misfortune that came their way, until, eventually, Crow's father believed it as well, and began to treat his youngest in the same manner. Crow was strong, however, and tried not to let it get him down, instead turning to his siblings for comfort and the love he felt his parents would never give him, doing everything in his power to ensure their happiness and survival, attempting to keep them from trouble. Crow kept his chin up right to the very end, despite the tortures he underwent, but when the famine came, everything changed. The food went from meager to nothing, and Crow was forced to watch his siblings starve, made to watch them suffer a slow, painful death at the hands of hunger. He remained with each of them to the end, however, and though he did not know how to hunt, he tried. Oh, how he tried. He attempted everything his cunning little mind could think of, and then some, but he always failed, and came home to his siblings empty handed, his parents having left on a journey to attempt to find food elsewhere, in other lands. They never returned, and so Crow sat with his brother and sisters, as one by one, they left this world, and returned to the astral body from whence they came, left behind the sorrows and sufferings brought upon them by their cruel and overly reactive parents, until, at last, he was alone. The final pup. The last survivor. Grief stricken, blinded by rage and hate for his parents, Crow left after burying the youngest of his sisters, the one he had been closest too, had shared the most laughter and mirth with. She had been the last to die, trying to hold on for his sake, so that she might not leave him all alone, but at long last, the strength robbing ordeal of the famine took her from him, as she could not hold out any longer, could not continue to cling to continued life. Crow wandered aimlessly then, for a good while, unable to hunt, unable to feed himself any more than he had been able to feed his starving siblings, growing weaker and weaker with each and every passing day, until, one bright sunshine filled morning, he found Sarah, or perhaps, Sarah found him. Either way, the young maiden picked him up, took pity on him, and brought him back to her pack, despite his snarling snaps, his protests, and the claim that he "didn't do packs." Now he is growing strong and fit, healthy and well groomed, blossoming into the young wolf he will someday become. In personality, Crow is a quiet, brooding type, never wishing to speak much, especially about those things that remind him of his roots; and so he keeps to himself most of the time, only speaking out when he must, when it is required of him to remain polite and in the good graces of the pack. He is often grumpy and grouchy, despising mornings above all else, and the young brute will often snap and snarl when pushed whilst he doesn't wish to speak. Which is most of the time, as previously mentioned. He is also highly intelligent, and unusually keen, observing things most wolves would miss in a heartbeat, though he usually doesn't say anything of it, and he is quite the tracker, despite his inability to catch game. In description, he is small and lean, due to the fact that he was malnourished as a pup, his coat is a thick, midnight black, his eyes a keen ice blue. His teeth are a strong bone white, his claws a thick and powerful black. His paws are large, hinting at further growth; his tail is short, having been ripped off in younger years by a coyote on an escapade with his brother and sisters, before things got bad. At the corners of his eyes are darker black hues that decorate his face, two silver piercings reside in one of his softly defined ears, the other holds only one. These rings appear in both forms, as he never takes them off; they represent the souls of the siblings he lost, and the whelp wears them in memory of the only family he ever had until now, honoring their lives and sacrifices. His human figure is a bit taller, though not extremely so, he is considered of average height, if just barely. Thick black hair hangs down in his face and adorns his head, his skin is pale and creamy in color; he wears a black t-shirt with a red jacket, blue jeans, and sneakers. His eyes are also ice blue in this form, and his skinny figure transitions over.
Theme Song: Apologize by OneRepublic
The DuskFang
"Hush. I'm having the most interesting conversation with the voices in my head."
Basic Information:
Name: Demonfrost Caverly
Age: 21 in human years, 3 in wolf years
Gender: Female
Rank: Assassin
Mate: None as of yet.
Children: None as of yet.
Age: 21 in human years, 3 in wolf years
Gender: Female
Rank: Assassin
Mate: None as of yet.
Children: None as of yet.
Biography:
Demonfrost is young for her rank, her age coming in at only about three years whilst in her lupine form, a mere 19 in her human figure; she is rather small, with a lithe, powerful build, her body having been honed since childhood for the tasks and trials she would someday face for her ranking. Her musculature is smooth and sleek, with a streamlined edge that hones her agility and flexibility, permitting her to accomplish amazing feats when coupled with her slight weight, though even these attributes provide disabilities when facing larger opponents. Her pelt is a mixture of black and silvery gray, its main color accented by a few lighter markings given a strange sheen rarely seen in one of her breed, as stealth and silence are of the utmost importance. These silvery highlights accent her ears, eyes, toes, and tail tip, while bandages cover her lower forelegs, hiding vicious scars given to her from a vicious, hard life of slaughter, scars she usually hides whenever possible, though she is not above revealing them if necessary. In her human form her hair is kept short as to prevent it being used unnecessarily against her, the simple style ending at her chin, often flipping or curling about as it bounces; its sheen is a brilliant silver that gleams in the darkness, her eyes are just as cold and dead of a blue as in her animal form, her figure is deceptively short, coming in at 4'9", her weight ranging anywhere from 90-100 lbs, depending upon what she is currently up to and doing, what clothing she is typically wearing. She can be found in dark blue jeans, boots, a low cut t-shirt, and a coat that is lined on the outside in fur. It's coloring is a light gray, nearly silver, the fur trimming soft and plush, snow white in color. Bandages adorn her hands just as they do in her animal form, concealing the scars that line her fingers, hands, and even trailing up so far as to anchor themselves upon her wrists. Demonfrost was born and raised an assassin, taught and trained since birth for the rank, a position she enjoys very much, as it allows her an outlet for her psychopathic nature. She was gifted with many of the less desirable qualities known to the wolf, seeing as they have been bred into her blood. This wolf is all about the mission: she could care less about anything else. An alpha's anger, a packmate's jealousy, it doesn't matter, nor does it faze her in the slightest. As she will often point out, she is here for one thing, and one thing only, and it's not to make friends or find a family: it's to kill whomever gets in her way. She is confident and blunt, often making such rude remarks as she sees fit, not caring what others opinions are. Demonfrost is hard and cold, locking her emotions away so as to keep them from interfering with her missions, from clouding her mind with unsound judgment and mixed priorities. She is crafty, manipulating, always having some sort of angle, some sort of game. She likes to tease her prey, draw it in, play with it, trick it, abuse it before she finally takes pity on the poor sap and relieves them of life. She is also quite bold and daring, tumbling headlong into feats other wolves only dream of, but never dare to attempt, and she can be quite insolent when she wishes, full of sass and the fine art of sarcasm. She scoffs at any authority lower than her own, and will often blatantly ignore any and all commands or suggestions, preferring to do things her own way, for she plans and considers multiple outcomes before she ever makes a move.
Theme Song: The Monster by Eminem ft. Rihanna
"Look to the past for a better future."
Basic Information:
Name: Brett Billings
Age: 18 in human years, 2 in wolf years
Gender: Male
Rank: Pack Member
Mate: None as of yet; interested in Lyra.
Children: None as of yet.
Age: 18 in human years, 2 in wolf years
Gender: Male
Rank: Pack Member
Mate: None as of yet; interested in Lyra.
Children: None as of yet.
Biography:
Brett is a young male whose bloodline follows that of a rather great train of Betas, each generation of his family tasked with upholding and protecting pack law and traditions, something the lean brute takes very seriously in his line of work, in the tasks he performs each an every day. Granted, he is only an apprentice at this point in his life, but Brett is a hard worker, with great visions for the future. He is loyal, steadfast, and breath takingly noble, willing to give up his own life and chance at happiness for the good of the pack and those around him. The young male is known to be sweet, kind, and even considerate, deeply thoughtful, and very introspective at times. He is very pack oriented, wanting only the best for those he lives and works with, those wolves he calls friend and home; the teen is also very naive in some of the more intricate matters of life, the more delicate ways known to his pack, though his eyes are keen and his wits sharp and sure. His paws are firm and his beliefs are even stronger; there is nothing he won't die for if he takes it to heart and holds it dear; he avoids being rude and snappy when he can, and often seeks to better both himself and his pack by holding extremely high standards for his own character, withdrawing and inwardly berating himself when he fails in these endeavors, or when he falls short of expectation. He listens and obeys orders, only ever questioning their wisdom internally, never voicing any objections or dissent for fear of sending the pack tumbling into chaos, as he has witnessed happening more than once, both in his natal pack, and the pack he took shelter in afterwards, the turbulence stirred by disobedience and disagreement shattering the bonds of both packs and sending their members scattering to the winds of the earth. As such, he has learned to hold his tongue, even as young as he is, and Brett knows to look to his elders for guidance, for they have lived far longer than he, having wisdom and experience far beyond his own meager years, listening to their advice, taking it to heart, pondering and considering it heavily, weighing it, before ever making a move. The male is only in his teenage years, coming in at the tender age of 18, going on nineteen, in his human form, and only about 2 in his animal figure. Appearance wise, Brett is tall, about 5'8" in height, weighing in at about 125-130 lbs, a bit on the leaner side. He is not very broad, nor is he very muscular, he has the leaner physique that many young ladies in his age group find attractive, with thick black hair and glittering dark eyes that gleam with a keen intelligence, and pale porcelain skin, flesh that will burn if exposed to the sunlight too long. His hands are of average size, his fingers not thick and meaty, but nor are they slender and skinny; they fit his physique perfectly, as does the rest of his limbs and body. He wears a plain tee shirt underneath, with a cream colored pull over sweater covering the fabric, dark blue jeans anchored with a belt, black combat boots. He carries no weapons usually, preferring to box, using hand to hand combat in most cases. His animal form is rather odd for a male wolf, his coat is three varying shades of purple, while his eyes remain the same keenly dark nature of color. His tail is plumed, his coat well groomed and cared for, his lean, long legs providing him with speed as well as strength and endurance for the long run. Though he has much to learn, Brett is a quick study, and will throw himself into his work, attempting to compensate for his weaknesses and further develop his strengths so that he might uphold that which he holds most dear, and protect those he cares for.
Theme Song: Pending