The Elites Of Celestion.

Number: 2!
Name: Mars
Age: 2 years
Gender: Female because Mythology, yo.
Voice: A strong, yet light female voice that is sometimes velveteen and sometimes strong and firm.
Scent: Charred Firewood, Cinnamon, Ginger, and other sharp-smelling spices.

Appearance:
Standing at the height of 29", the woman is indeed of feminine structure, with a slender body and plush tail. About her neck, is the soft lacing of soft and well-groomed fur. With delicate and strong legs, the woman is indeed of accidental beauty. An ashen cloak patched by earthen tones and russet sand envelops the fine lady in many autumnal colors. Most prominent about her tail, paws, and spine are the russet tones, smaller patches seemingly sprouting from the main lines of color. Each color fits the contours of the woman's body, working their way up to sharply contrasting sapphire eyes.

Personality:
At the alignment of Chaotic Neutral, the woman is indeed of unpredictable nature, often doing whatever the hell she wants. She will throw you under the bus if it benefits her or someone who is close, and she will stand for you. It more so depends on her affiliations with you, of friend or foe. The woman is intelligent, and uses her appearance to seem innocent, willing her victims to be her followers. Somehow, in a strange nature of hers, the woman can be a sweet and charismatic individual, without thinking. For those close to her, and in her dark heart, the woman is caring and protective, especially for most of the Elites of Celeston. She believes in a brighter future for the Celeston wolves, and wishes to create them a home for them to reside, and live by their own rules and laws, set by herself to maintain order amongst the vibrant wolves.

Roleplay Sample:
Delicate pillars would lead the russet toned woman toward a shimmering lake of cerulean liquid. On either side, the lake was shrouded by an impending mask of vapor. Sapphire pools gazed over the surface of the calm, shimmering waters. Above, the full round moon shone down from the midnight sky. Bright stars sparkled on the dark fabric that made up space matter. The fabric of time would eventually give out to the serene atmosphere as the russet woman broke the silence. Suddenly, as if the forest had stood up and began to dance, the trees were whistling under the will of the blowing wind. The calm waters overturned and began to dance. The woman's nose was soon lifted to the wind as a melodic cry rang from her inky lips. Sapphire irises would close as the cry grew stronger until it finally faded, not greeted with the sound of any other wolves.

Perhaps the other elites had not survived the crossing to these lands, like she had been told. The woman had been told that the elites would be here, and that they would survive the crossing to the earth beneath her paws, to meet here. At a shining lake beneath the full moon. Sapphire irises were softened as the woman's pillars delicately folded beneath her chest, as she lay down, still intently watching the lake, as if the elites would suddenly rise to the surface, after a long time in slumber. Perhaps not today, or tomorrow, or ever would they arrive. Am I truly the only survivor of my blood? The woman silently would run through the thought before her crown would become cradled between her paws, as sapphire pools gazed out at the lake once more, before closing to welcome a night's rest.