Yup. These are members from the Nomad pack, a pack of Healers of the highest knowledge and training from Erani and Cormalin's homeland of Calarada. All of these wolves will have a great, great amount of knowledge of herbs, healing, and advanced healing. Erani and Cormalin are likely cousins to most of the pack, barring the few unrelated wolves that joined in to prevent inbreeding.

The rules are simple, You give me a filled out form (The code below), and make it well detailed. Read this Whole Thing Closely, and keep an eye out for changes, because I will edit in things when ideas pop up.

These wolves are also of the highest skill in defense fighting. They run on the Lawful Good in the light to dark scale. Just look at Erani, you'll have a good idea of what they're like. There are a few with unusual markings or unnatural colors.

Some will have names, and others, you may give names yourself, but keep in mind how the already set names sound and look, as they generally run on that frame.

Males will usually have an 'os' at the end of their names. Some may opt to have the name of their favorite plant or other element of nature as a rare surname.

Females will generally have a feminine sound to the end of theirs, though some may opt to take the name of their favorite plant or element as a rare surname.

Surnames are not usually found with these wolves. Usually a title "Of The Nomads" is given in introduction.


Ages will run from 2 years (when a wolf in the Nomads will have reached the end of their first two years of training. Wolves under two years are not allowed to leave to serve a pack, as the preliminary training ends at two years. Wolves at two years of age, will have reached the halfway point in Training, and have been given two vertical lines, scars, side by side, between the brow points.)

to 4 and up. (when they are trained to the utmost ability. these wolves are among the elite in Healers, and will know every part of the Healer's Craft, from serious, near fatal injuries, to severe fractures. Every illness is known, except those that have not yet been encountered in the pack's travels; and that is a very, very minuscule amount. These wolves will have had the Nomad's Mark of the fully trained Healer carved between the brow points, a clear scar to show a wolf who knows of the Nomads, that the injured or ill are in safe paws.).

Marks are rubbed upon their application with something to dye them to clearly show up against their fur color. From berries, to lime water.

No wolves are to be created under two years of age

These are the two versions of the marks. The secondary mark is given only by the Elders; the most skilled of all.

Half Trained: http://i.imgur.com/o9q8UvM.png


Fully Trained Mark: http://i.imgur.com/PSoyWrC.png

OKAY! NOW that you have slogged your way through all that, and have hopefully read it closely too, fill in the Code right below.

WORK IN PROGRESS

Number:4
Name:Maximous(meaning savior in Greece) or Max for short
Age: 2

Appearance: The young man is tall, yet stalky. He stands at 36 inches tall and weighs around 160lbs, but he is far from fat...its all muscle. His fur is long, thick, and such a dark black that it looks blue in the light of the moon. His flesh is dark, which only ads to the darkness of his pelt. His eyes however are an icy blue that stands out against his dark features. The only scar he holds on him is the mark of a half trained healer of the Nomads. It is two strait lines between his eyebrows, the mark is stained with blackberry juice...giving the mark a dark purple almost red look that stands out against his bluish black fur.

Personality: Though he looks like a demon of the night, he is quite the opposite. He would sooner mend wounds than he would make them. To those he is not fond of he simply does not speak. Max is only willing to fight if it means he is protecting another...though he will hate every second of it. He loves pups and sees only the potential in them. He is very friendly and caring so making friends with this boy is rather easy...though being a trusted friend is another story all together. The only time he takes to care for himself is to make sure he is clean...after all a dirty wolf is not one someone wants to mend their wounds. Max is a very loyal wolf and prefers to follow the laws but not even an order from an alpha or a king can keep him from healing an injured wolf. The only thing that could keep this male from doing his job is either that he is injured or the wolf has caused him or his family harm.

Roleplay Sample: Maximous was deep within his den for the night. His eyes had been closed and his mind was blank with sleep. The peacefulness of the black night did not last long however. A scream sounded through the night, not for help, but in terror.

The young man rose quickly from his slumber, shook the dirt from his pelt, and set out into the moonlit land. His legs carried him to the scream as quickly as they could. As he drew closer to the area the scream came from, he could tell some one was definitely upset over something. With every step the sobs grew louder and the more words she could make out.

It was a girl, no more than a child, who was crying and making little sense as she spoke in sobbing whimpers. When they came into view he could see why. A mother lay broken and unconscious on the ground. The girl was begging her mother to get up as something larked closer in the shadows. He himself knew that he would not actually attack the stalker but it did not know that.

He jumped from his hiding place and did not stop until he stood over the woman and her child protectively. To any one that truly knew him would laugh at him as they would know that this show of aggressiveness was just that, a show. In the light the moon provided his pelt looked blue to anyone who may look upon him and his ice blue eyes shown bright and demon like.

Max would snap his jaws together and bear his sharp pearly white teeth as the thing continued to move forward in the shadows. The closer it came the easier it was for him to make out what it was. Another male wolf darker than himself but with pale eyes that reflected just as much of the moons light as his own did.

For any untrained wolf, the male would seem blind, but Maximous knew that his eyes may be pail, but they were not dull enough to be blind. The boy's voice came out deep and fierce. "Leave now and ill not hunt you down, leaving small wounds here and there until you are so paranoid that you wont even eat for fear I've poisoned it. It will be then and only then that I will leave you broken as you bleed to death."

The words tasted bitter and made him want to vomit, but the stalker seemed to believe him as it stopped in his tracks. They stood there staring each other down for what seemed like a long time, before the male finally left. Maximous did not move from his position over the female and her child until he dare not make the woman wait for medical assistance any longer.

First he looked her over making sure it was safe to even move her. Nothing was broken but two wounds could not wait much longer. One on the side of her neck and another just behind her shoulder blade. The young girl seemed to get louder and more hysterical with every passing moment, being terrified of the first male and now by his own words.

When he was sure he could move the woman the child had grown restless. By the time Max had the woman drapped over his back so that he could take her safely to his den the girl was attacking his leg and screaming at him to leave her mother alone. "Hush child. I do not intend to harm your mother, what I intend is to help her." he said lowering his head so that his mark was visible "I am a Nomad wolf, a healer. Do not fear me for nothing I said to your attacker was true."

Quickly he picked up the girl and made his way to his herb filled den. After setting the girl down he placed the woman down gently. Cleaning both wounds thoroughly he chewed the herb that would numb the pain a bit. As he smoothed the numbing herb he began chewing the herb that would cover the wounds keeping bugs and infection out. After placing the bandage like herb he placed another in front of her face. This one would wake her, but it would take a small amount of time.

After an hour or so of keeping the young girl preoccupied, the woman awoke. First fearful for the child and then defensive because she knew not were she was. After a small explanation and making sure the woman would be alright Maximous sent them on their way with strict instructions and herbs she would need for the next few days.

He took a few moments to clean the blood first from his den and then from himself before laying down to sleep for the remainder of the night.

Number: 5
Name: Amia Cher Of The Nomads
Age: 2 years
Voice: Miriam A Stockley
Scent: gardenia flowers, lavender, and faint pine
Theme Song: Link
Appearance:
Earthen tone of a dull brown covers the majority of the young girl's soft fluffy coat. She is not vibrant in color but her markings might make her stand out. Upon her four limbs are stocking high mottled white, dappling from the joints down to her toes. Face is covers in white, covering her upper lips and chin to the entire face. From there it thins is the same dappling effect as on her legs, covering her ears and back of head. Her eyes are a sharp pale blue, welcoming yet can be very cold and harsh. Between her eyes upon her brows are two vertical lines that are scars. And when able to pasted on from crushed black berries when available or the light brown of sap from trees to make them stand out more. Her body is well muscled under her fluffy soft coat. Limbs are slender, and her height is slightly just under average at about 27inches.
Personality:
Amia is a girl of love. Her whole world revolves around it. She loves to fall in fall, to be in love, to feel loved, and to love back. Romance and wooing is the way to win this girl over. She is na?ve though, letting love blind her from seeing who others really are. All to often has she been crushed down, but her faith in never giving up make her spring back to her paws. Not only does she love to be adored but she will more than willingly return the action. Some say that in a relationship one loves more than the other and she is that one.
One doesn't not have to be in a relationship with her to get her affection. She loves tending to others, caring for them, fussing and fretting. Perhaps it is why she loves her role as a healer. One could easily find her in the healer's den, treating patients with feather light touches. She takes her role seriously and it would kill her to be withheld from doing it.
Anger is not an emotion that is ever shown, if at all, within this kind soul. But god forbid whoever did it might not ever return. Amia hates fighting but knows how and when it is necessary. She wont hesitant to defend if needed. But to anger her to the point of wanting to cause another harm takes a lot. And it wont be because her heart was broken. Only such anger could arise if one harms her friends and family.
Depression is something she battles everyday. Sure she believes that one day she'll find the one, that everyone has some good in them, that everyone is capable to love and be loved. But at times its hard to keep that going. Sometimes it takes so much to believe such a thing when all is against it. When depression strikes you rarely will find her, her way of getting away, to think.
Courage is something Amia lacks in when its something outside her field of training as a healer. Truthfully there are many things she fears and will shy away when encountered. She go silent and just back off. She wishes she had someone to encourage her in times of need but ever since she was a pup she always stood on the outside. She is silent most times, daydreaming or focusing of her skills. She wont talk unless conversation is directed right at her.
Roleplay Sample:
Just another day, another boring day passing by while she did nothing. She hated to just sit around, needed to move, do something! Restlessly she would pace her den till her paws hurt. But she needed something to do, otherwise she would just keep thinking. Her mentor had just passed away and not by any peaceful means either. He had been murdered, throat ripped out. Amia had spent three days crying and screaming till there was nothing felt in her body to even make a noise. How could someone do such a thing to a kind man? It wasn't fair, it was horrible, nightmarish. She wished it was all some bad dream and any minute now she would wake up. But it never happened, she laid there in her den, refusing to see anyone, mourning the loss of a dear friend and mentor. She loss interest to training, in taking part of activities within the pack. No one bothered her, leaving her been to try and heal on her own time. But each day she was growing the dislike this place more and more. She couldn't stand to be in the same place her mentor had died. It just simply broke her heart and stalked her mind day and night. And so she formed a plan, tonight she would leave, unnoticed.

As night fell she watched her packmates settle down to sleep and curl up in the dens from the entrance of her's. Hours passed till she felt safe to slink out into the open. Silently she padded over to the burial site of her dead mentor. Eyes closed as she bowed her head. She would never forget him or his lessons, and hoped he would understand her need to leave. Her heart could simply not take the fact she would never see him again, that someone else would end up training her. No one understood her, only he had! Head lifted as eyes opened before she turned away and took off at a sprint. She wouldn't look back, she couldn't, it was better to just keep running. Maybe she will find another place to live, to heal and move on. But for now she was running away from it.

Applying for number 2 just wip

Elysia, just one thing. The marks are scars, dyed like tattoos to show better if the fur grows back. From how I was reading your description, she daubs them on. A wolf wouldn't be able to apply the marks in two straight lines on their own face. Wolves just aren't that flexible.

Edit: I've been thinking about how they would apply these marks... I'd say a sharp stone, or a deer antler with a point gnawed to a sharper end. One wolf will hold it, while another guides the point.

Number: 9

Name: Inneia

Age: 2 years old

Voice: Lana Del Rey

Scent:Roses, Delilah?s and other fragrant flowers mixed with the smell of fresh morning dew

Appearance: Inneia is a mostly black female with amber eyes. She has a tan colored stomach that extends up her sides. She stands a proud 30 inches tall with the nomad's mark of a half trained nomad on her fur from the point of a deer antler. Her soft yet vibrant voice can echo out when she wants to, but the held back girl is more of a speak when needed fae. Some voice examples are Lana Del Rey, Lady Antebellum or Adele. She carries a scent that smells like roses, Delilah?s and other fragrant flowers mixed with the smell of fresh morning dew. Her legs are rather slim, but hold some muscle to them from her daily workout of simply walking around and doing what needs to be done.

Personality: Inneia tends to fit more into the neutral good alignment, she does what she feels is right when she feels it is the correct time to do it. She would work with loyalty, but not feel beholden by them or their 'majesty'. She is fairly easy going and peaceful. On the rare occasion that she gets mad, as it happens to every wolf, she is peculiar. She finds that she has the choice of what to do, she reacts how she sees best, which rarely leads to violence. She likes to think that she is a good healer, however she has had little opportunity to prove it, making her feel frustrated or flustered. She always tries to keep a smile on her face since one smile can hide a million tears. She believes that there must be some regulation in combination with freedoms if the best is to be brought to the world--the most beneficial conditions for living things in general and intelligent creatures in particular.

Roleplay Sample: Inneia was gaping at what she saw as beautiful. A pond was completely frozen over, the grass sparkling with morning frost. The leaves of the trees appeared to have caught the frost on its venture to the ground. A smile pursed her lips and she knew that she would find no herbs that day. The frost would have killed them unless they had been properly stored. Most would see it as a travesty to lose such things, but she knew they would grow back in time. She found it hard to be mad at something that she saw as so beautiful.

She, regretfully, continued her walk away and back to her ventures. She had stopped to find some herbs that she could take with her, just in case they were needed. But having thought about it, she wouldn?t have been able to carry them around all day either. It was better that the frost had claimed them before she did. They would have gone to waste had she found them first. She continued on with a small bounce in her step. Just another day.

Credit Table Code - Kade ©

Number: 3
Name: Natana Sagebrush of the Nomads
Age: 6 years
Voice: Low and gravely, sounds like a chicago smoker
Scent: Strongly of rosemary and lightly of mint, masked in the musk scent of a burning tree
Appearance: Dark grey covers the expanse of this dame's body, beginning from the base of her tail and ending at the top of her head. She bears a black mask over her face and the tips of her four long legs. A small dab of white fur can be found at the end of her tail and in the center of her broad chest. Her fur is thick enough to accomodate any climate and clumped around the base of her tail, showing a lack of interest in her own body and a high interest in the care of others. The thin white mark of her training is scarred into her forehead to show that she has been trained in the ways of her people.
Personality: Her silver eyes may not reveal it at first glance, but Tana is quite a grouch. She believes that every wolf deserves a second chance, yet she will not tolerate nonsense. She is under the impression that after all of her years of healing she is entitled to a mite of respect from the young pups that bumble about, breaking every bone in their bodies as if they aren't important to them. She holds no interest in the male kind but has a soft spot for young mothers. She is a masterr with herbs, and takes pride in her accomplishments as a healer. Tana gives a lot of herself and does not take much back. She decided long ago that her life was completely devoted to healing and caring for others, and this allows her to sleep at night knowing that she is doing some good in the world.
Roleplay Sample: It was a brisk winter night, and the air was filled with the panicked whines of a desperate mother. Her eyes were wide with fear, orange fur standing on end.
Tana could sense the lady's arrival before she saw her face, blinking her weary eyes and getting to her paws in preperation.

"Natana!!!! You must help me Natana I can not find my baby! Please oh please you have to help me please..." She broke into her warm den, sending a flurry of bedding and moss everywhere in her panic.

The older ebony dame blinked understandedly in the queen's direction and planted a lick between her ears. "Now don't you worry Peony we will find him. He can't have gone far, now could he? He's got those short little clumsy legs. Where did you see him last?"

Peony shifted uneasily from paw to paw, her anxiety making it difficult to think properly. She shook her head and looked into the healer's calming silver orbs.

"He was with me and the girls playing in the den and I must have dozed off. He wasn't with me when I woke...oh Natana I can't find him anywhere and he's so little! Do you think he may have gotten hurt?!?"

Tana sighed and pressed her side against the ginger dame. "Now lets not think like that right now. You know how pups can be, they're curious little things. He probably isn't far. Lets take a look."

She led the woman back to her den, pressing her nose to the ground and taking in the scents of her surroundings. The pups scent was strong, and led into the forest. Natana's ears swiveled forward, listening for him.

After a short moment of silence, a small squeak reached her ears and she bolted into the wood. He was not far, but she could smell the sharp tinge of blood in the air. Her muscles tensed, prepared for anything.

In her rush to find the little brute, Natana nearly tripped over a small pool of mud and was rewarded with a loud squeak of protest. She looked down and saw the little rascal with a bloodied mouse hanging out of his mouth. She rolled her eyes and sat in front of him.

" Fugue do you know how much trouble you just caused your mother? She nearly had a heart attack. " she stared at him sternly and his lip began to tremble.

" I dunno....I caught her a mouse though! Its cold and I wanna go home miss Tana!" He cried and picked up his mouse again. Natana sighed once more and scooped him up in her jaws. The little pup was all covered in mud!

Number: 12
Name: Maia Of The Nomads
Age: Two years
Voice: Maia has a soft, sweet voice that seems to calm other wolves a little. But, her voice is very quiet, and it is very hard to hear her.
Scent: Maia has the smell of honeysuckles, with just a slight hint of mint and rose.
Appearance: Maia, despite her sweet voice and smell, is a very large wolf, and is one of the better wolves at dashing around and getting herbs, because of her long legs. This makes her very tall, and she is very intimidating, due to towering over some of the other wolves. Her fur is quite long and thick, which makes her appear even larger. The main color of Maia is an eclipse gray, more like black than actually gray.
Personality:
Roleplay Sample:

Number: #7
Name: Shilah of the Nomads
Age: 2 years, born in Spring
Voice: Vic Mignogna
Scent: Shilah's scent is a mix of spruce and pine as well as a slight bit of mint which he enjoys rolling in every now and then.
Appearance: Shilah bears the mark of the half-trained nomad proudly on his forehead. The two vertical lines rest right in the part of his fur and are still fairly visible. His were dyed with a terra cotta hue. Overall Shilah has a dark sable coat that's almost black with a subtle mix of earthen underhues. His eyes are rimmed in silver and his tail is tipped in a similar hue. Mottled, speckled stockings of silver stretch up each of his legs.

Shilah's build is fairly average for a wolf. He's not too tall or too short, not to muscular nor is he frail. Overall, Shilah has the sturdy yet agile build of a herder.

(took of the mark on the muzzle hope that's alright, it kind of looks like a funny mustache from the front xD)
Personality:

Restless, cheerful, and friendly, Shilah is generally on the go. He loves to embrace his freedom and has a disdain for routine. Generally quite easygoing Shilah makes friends with wolves from all walks of life and he loves to laugh and tease.

Shilah often has blind faith in people and in the world. His optimism is infectious, although it can get them into trouble from time to time. Curious to a fault, Shilah is easy-going most of the time though he can have a quick temper but he'll often forget what he was angry about a second later. If he doesn't Shilah will usually take to running to cool his anger. He doesn't have a lot of patience to wait things out. That's where his restless, adventurous nature kicks in.

Sometimes Shilah can be a bit difficult to understand. Sometimes he's easy-going, joking and having a good time. Other times he's on fire, intense and impassioned about something or other. Shilah abhor's anything that fences him in, he needs to feel like he has space. He's the type that'll run away when things get too serious or dull but he'll be back a minute later.

To Shilah the world is filled with adventure, new things to experience and most of all, hope. There is an unmistakable faith and enthusiasm with this wolf. One of his most endearing traits is his willingness to keep up a sense of humor. Even when Shilah is feeling low, he manages to find humor in life and have fun with whatever he has.

Roleplay Sample:

A few rocks slipped down the steep incline but Shilah kept moving boldly forward. He'd travelled this steep terrain frequently enough to know the twists and turns though he still needed practice with his hunting. From his jaws hung a young goat that he'd killed. The chase had bruised him up good because almost as soon as he had it by the throat he'd lost his footing.

Once he got to the top Shilah set the catch down to begin eating when he caught the scent of another wolf? and the scent of blood and birthing. His ears flicked forward. That wasn't a good sign, usually any scent of the birth during and after the process was dealt with quickly to prevent predators from preying on the pups. If he had to guess, Shilah supposed it was a rogue female and she was alone. That just would not do! Snatching up the kid in his jaws he set off in the direction of the scent.

Not to far away in a small thicket rested a small black female, her side heaving in agony. One newborn was laying a short ways behind the mother and for a second he thought the pup was dead than he noticed slight movement. Without a second though Shilah dropped his kill and dove forward, fangs snipping the sac from the pup as he began licking, ignoring the taste.

"PISS OFF!" Fangs sank into Shilah's right ankle and he flinched but continued licking while the mother's head twisted to the side. Suddenly, the pup began to squeal. "M'am, please? I know you have no reason to believe me, but I promise you I am only trying to help. I don't like to see? such suffering." Slowly, he felt the fangs release from his haunch. "Very well? AHH..hehh? but if you make one wrong move I will castrate you here and there." Shilah nodded and did not argue.

"I'm sorry to be forward miss but I need to uh?" The femme rolled her eyes and lifted her tail. "Just? help me." The last word trickled out in a whine and he swore he could see a tear in the femmes eyes. Shilah nodded, suddenly serious. "I will do everything in my power for you and your pups?"

Croatoan has not finished filling out her application, and thus the application is to be disregarded.

Seimei Has not yet completed her application, and thus the application is to be disregarded.

Ice Has won number 9, now known as Inneia. By the way, I have no clue what Lana Del Ray sounds like... XD

LunarCat has won number 7, now known as Shilah. (Who the heck is Vic Mognogna?)

Ely has won number 5, now known as Amia (Though I would suggest choosing a different middle name. Based on her personality, I would say Rose would be a nice middle name.)

Melody has won number 3, now known as Natana.

Secret has won number 4, now known as Maximous.


Those who have won a character, I would like you to brush up on your herbal lore HERE. As healer players of the Nomads, I want to see a lot of herbal references in posts, especially when the character is working his or her Craft on a patient.

Since there are mostly two year olds now given life to walk Alacritis, we need older wolves!

New rule in effect!

No wolves may be applied for as two year olds, and may only be four years and up in application!

We also could use more males ;)

hey it's fawn posting an app! c:

Number: One
Name: Altavro [Alt to close friends, Altavro of the Nomads to everyone else]
Age: 5 years
Voice: Deep, rather rough and scratchy like he hasn't talked in a little while, and typically pretty grumpy sounding. He's usually pretty quiet, and rarely raises his voice.
Scent: Rather subtle, Altavro's scent is a mixture of a variety of herbs, with a hint of male wolf as well. Perhaps the strongest scent is the scent of wintergreen, but overall, the various smells blend together smoothly, making it difficult to pick one apart from the rest.
Appearance: Standing at approximately 32 inches in height, Altavro is not a particularly large wolf, but he would certainly not be considered small either. His build is more stocky than anything else, bulky but with little fat on his frame. The most eye catching thing about this wolf is certainly his fur, which ranges in shade from white to a dusty gold. His paws are dipped in white, and his face, from below his nose up to the end of his muzzle. The majority of the rest of his body is a burnished gold, with his underbelly and the underside of his tail marked with tan. A slightly darker brown outlines the tan markings, and extends past his chest up to rim the white on his face and surround bright blue eyes.

The mark of the nomads can be found between his brows, with a fully fledged healer mark adorning that space, carved deeply into the skin. It was dyed with berries upon its application, giving it a red coloration that makes it stand out even more against the gold fur around it.
Personality: Prickly as a cactus at first glance (and many glances to follow, too), Altavro is fairly easy to understand. An elder in a middle aged wolf's body, Alt is grumpy, snappish, rude, and any manner of other things. He's as likely to be found grumbling about the 'new fangled gadgets of today' as he is to be found paws deep in herbs, taking care of yet another wolf who managed to get hurt. He's not the easiest wolf to get around with, to say the least, and his surly nature means that not many seek him out unless they are injured or in pain, often due to operator error, in Altavro's eyes. He has little patience for stupidity, and the sheer amount of 'stupid' injuries that he sees so often means that Altavro is rarely in a particularly good mood. He's got a sharp edged tongue and certainly won't hesitate to use it.

But to those who chose to get to know Altavro, he reveals more depth than one might expect. He can prove to be a good friend during times of trouble, as Altavro is extremely loyal and will put his life on the line for a friend or loved one. He rarely lies, and so any wolf can ask him a question and be confident in the fact that Altavro is telling the truth, though in keeping with his prickly nature, he's definitely brutally honest. If Altavro thinks you're being painfully stupid, he certainly won't hesitate to tell you. If you're probably going to die, well, if you ask him, Altavro will tell you the truth without sugarcoating it. He doesn't believe in white lies, or any type of lie, really, and in almost all cases, he will tell the truth as he sees it. Altavro is well aware that he still has things to learn about the art of healing, despite his vast stores of knowledge, and the sheer amount of death and pain that he has seen in his life has left him extremely humble. Altavro is a spiritual wolf, believing in the gods that walk the skies above him and rule the natural world around him, and this humbles him only still further. He is aware that he is small compared to the world, that there are sicknesses he has never and will never seen, and injuries that he will never be able to heal. Still, Altavro is determined. He will never give up on an injured or sick wolf, and will fight until his last breath to take care of those that he is charged to look after.
Roleplay Sample: Mornings always seemed to start with an injured wolf. Altavro was starting to wonder if this Kalia was just getting herself on purpose ? she always seemed to be in his den first thing in the morning, and surely no one was dumb enough to get that hurt that many times, right? She couldn't be that stupid. Still, with the sheer number of times that the striped female had ended up here, Altavro was starting to get a little doubtful. Maybe her mother had dropped her on her head as a pup. That was a more reasonable answer than pretty much anything else. The yearling female was constantly appearing with cuts and bruises and scrapes, and Altavro was really starting to wonder what she was doing in her spare time.

Still, the male heaved himself to his paws as the yearling cleared her throat again, and shot her an irritable glance. ?What did you do this time?? Altavro grumbled, sweeping his gaze up and down across her body, automatically searching for some wound dripping blood onto his freshly cleaned den floor.

As the female responded, Altavro found his gaze alighting on a gash on her leg ? the uneven edges looked like it could have been caused by a rock or boulder, nothing inflicted by another wolf. Elderberry to insure the youngster wouldn't get infected, lamb's ear to serve as a bandage, and yarrow would do the trick. Altavro had learned long ago that he couldn't be too careful, not with Kalia. She tended to get hurt a lot, and wasn't the kind who kept her wounds clean. She had come in with injuries and then been back a week later with infections more times than Alt could count. ?Sol help me.? The wolf muttered to himself, stalking towards his herb stores without waiting for Kalia to say anything.

He gathered the necessary herbs, and turned expectantly towards the wolf, nodding approvingly when he saw her seated with her front leg extended. She was no stranger to this routine. ?Thank you, Alt.? The female wagged her tail a little as he padded closer, placing the elderberries in front of her.

?Altavro.? He corrected with a snort, ?Now eat, and try not to move.? He moved in a businesslike manner, moving briskly and applying the yarrow before wrapping the wound in lamb's ear. He ignored the occasional wince on Kalia's part, tail twitching in amusement as he stepped back.

The yearling opened her mouth to speak, but Altavro turned away, effectively ending the conversation. ?Altavro?? Still, Kalia seemed insistent on talking to him, so the wolf paused, turning his head just slightly back towards her. ?What?? He asked irritably, biting his tongue on a sharper comment.

?Thank you. I'm sorry.? The youngster looked almost ashamed, ducking her head as the thanks rolled off her tongue, ?We were just playing and I slipped and fell. I didn't mean to.?

The male shook his head slightly, amusement warming his eyes for a moment. ?It's all right. That's what I'm here for, after all.? As he spoke, the scar on his forehead seemed to twinge a little ? a reminder that Altavro had spent years studying and training so that he could do stuff like this. So that he could help wolves who couldn't help themselves. Sometimes, that was easy to forget, but he was glad in that moment, glad when he saw the wolf wag her tail a little as she bounded away, meeting up with the black male that had sat silently outside his den to make sure she was okay. Shadowfang, her best friend, if he recalled correctly. Hey, it was kind of cute, even the crotchety Altavro himself had to admit that.

XD I love him already.

Fawn has won number 1, known as Altavro.

Brush up on Herbal healing Here(clickme).

Number: #6
Name: Biennal Of The Nomads {Biennal to friends.}
Age: Four Years
Voice: Biennal is a quiet boy, and his voice is very soft. You almost have to strain to hear his soft voice. His voice is soothing, in a way. He never raises his voice, even when he is angry.
Scent: The scent of Biennal is pretty much just a mix of herbs and berries, and just a slight hint of the smell of a male wolf. He smells like acai berries, abas, and white tansy.
Appearance: The main fur color of the large male is a ginger color, and he looks more orange than anything. Between his brows is the mark of a fully trained nomad, with all the twisting. The color is a light shade of grayish blue, having been colored with acai berries. It stands out against the dark brown that ends just a little bit above his eyes. A pale gray color, which could be called white in color, covers both eyes. The bottom of his stomach is the same color, and stands out against his ginger fur. All four of Biennal's paws are the same dark brown color, and he looks like he had walked through mud, and never got it off his paws. Of course, this is not the case. But enough about that, we still need to describe Biennal's eye color. His right eye is a dark gray color, much darker than the stripes around his eyes. His left eye is a beautiful light blue color, that stand out against all the fur colors the four year old has.
Personality:
Roleplay Sample:

Number: 8
Name: Ellidos of the Nomads
Age: 4 years
Voice: Ellidos sounds like The Fray (A singer), a young and smooth voice, that usually can talk circles around ladies.
Scent: The black brute smells of eucalyptus, mint, and charred wood, along with the musky scent of moss.
Appearance:
At first sight, the Nomad is the valiant knight in a story where the knight saves the princess. He is tall and lean, with a muscular build for running, fighting, and hunting. A black blanket covers a gray base pelt, stretching over his tail, legs, paws, and ending mid-shoulder. Lighter highlights lie on the grey base, giving the appearance of a slight salt-and-pepper pelt, alternating between colors, but mostly lying over the highlights are gray, covering the white underfur. About his neck is a pure necklace of fur, long and soft, as well as his tail. In his well-chiseled face, lies a set of glistening eyes, his right eye a burning amber whilst the left is an icy blue, opposite tones, almost representing his two sides, amongst one of the few Nomads aligned at Chaotic Good. On his forehead, between the brows, is the fully trained mark in dyed in cream tones with the help of some dandelion sap.

Personality:
One of the few Nomads aligned at Chaotic Good, Ellidos is a brave fellow, always aiming to keep the Nomads and all other wolves safe and sound, healed of their wounds and free from the binds of pack life. Ellidos disrespects standard pack life, and has plans to find the Nomads a pack to live in together, just them, and their own territory, helping the other packs thrive with the assistance of their healing craftsmanship.

Ellidos is caring and protective of his fellow wolves, especially if they are wounded, elders, or pups. The brute will do everything to protect his loved ones and those that are close to him, even willing to die to protect them. He is a true friend to any wolf, always there to help them when in need, mostly in healing and emotional support. He will not ally with any wolf that is on the dark side, utterly hating the chaotic nature of their's.

Roleplay Sample:
Amongst the wildflowers, the dark brute felt contented for once, no wolf requiring assistance with wounds or herbs. His black paws skimmed the rocky ground as he padded toward the cliff side, of the Moontouched Cliffs. He would not fall. He kept leaning further forward. He knew his footing well from many nights of solitude spent here, by the sea. The saltiness of the sea stung at his nose and eyes, but he replied simply by closing his eyes and inhaling, welcoming the smells. Behind him, the wildflowers swayed in the wind, creating almost a melody between the wakes of the sea, the wildflowers swaying, and the wind blowing through the trees. Above the brute's head, the moon shone down on the landscape, turning the dew on the plants and the sea a luminescent white and blue.

A crunch in the bushes signified the arrival of another wolf, but there was nothing, but the bushes parted before he could turn away, it seemed the female that he had loved had come to visit him. A light figure took shape as the brute's paws only led him toward the elegant figure, on her back was the marking of wings. Tears began to sting at the large brute's eyes as he leaned forward to nuzzle the spirit. In return, the spirit nuzzled him, light to touch. The brute's bicolored eyes closed as he let tears run down his face. "Hun, I miss you so... Much...". The spirit briefly nodded, and the brute continued. "How can you still love me, when I caused your death? I should have killed that damned brute instead of listening to him and staying back, so he wouldn't kill you. I shouldn't be so naive. I just want you back here, with me... Please, Amara...". The spirit only whispered one word, Ellidos.... Before vanishing, leaving the brute alone.