Wait. What? MORE Erani Relatives?
03-03-2014, 03:56 PM
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.
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.