ardent

Beauty in Pain

legacy c:



You're not feeling so well...

Gilgamesh

"The Bully™"

Somnium

Master Intellectual (635)

Master Fighter (870)

An icon representing the specialty Gambler Gambler

An icon representing the specialty Marauder Marauder
age
7 Years
gender
Male
gems
462
size
Extra large
build
Balanced
posts
657
player
Bunni

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The Ooze ParticipantThe Ooze - Variation 3By the skin of my teethVengeanceHow many times do I have to teach you a lesson?! Overachiever
Critical Block!
09-16-2021, 07:55 PM
Find #1


On the cusps of Boreas, between the lands, two vast fields they called the Veteran's Plateau and the Battlefield were laid out. If the large, blue, and grey mottled male was not seen in either of those lands, he would spend his lonely nights and days in the North. Up there, not many wolves spent their time. It was too cold, too dangerous, too barren. But that's what he preferred. Thick forests and deep hills, he could be alone without anyone to bother him. Except, winter was here now and things had changed. Chilly days easily in the single digits with blustery snowfalls made quick to cover tracks and scents. So, he spent more time on the cusps of the lands than anywhere else.

Having not only sparred with two females but also helped another female and her two companions take down a bear, all he wanted was to go home now. What was with females and wanting to beat the shit out of things around here? This he thought funny, but also admired their resilience and strength. If only he could maybe one day convince a female as strong as one of them to stick around him for a while. Maybe he could make them a home somewhere. While his current home was not a specific place, it was not where he was. Rust-colored blood matted his shaggy coat and he thanked the heavens that he wasn't still bleeding. Battered and bruised, he was worried that the open lacerations along the back of his neck from both spars would become infected. Thankfully the bear had not inflicted too much damage aside from heavy bruising and minor scratches across his muzzle.

Disoriented and obviously lost, Gilgamesh stopped as the tickle of feathery willow trees brushed along his fur. Looking around, he blinked hard. This place was hardly familiar and it had strange swampy scents. Wrinkling his nose, he looked for a stream to get a drink. Taking a few sips, he lifted his muzzle and grew worried. If no one was around to point him in the right direction, how was he going to find his way back north? And what was he going to do about the wounds that he couldn't possibly reach himself? For the first time in a long time, Gil found himself in a predicament.

Speech

gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him




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