Memor

[Sulfur]

[atrb=width,452,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=FFFFFF] The whisper of the winds say I'm Memor They have a nickname for and its Memo The seasons prove that I am three years I have the pure blood lines of a wolf More specifically, I am a proud timber Appearance: Memor is covered with thick fur, the colors blending together to form a surreal effect. The white contradicts enough with the black so that the black, when under the sun, glistens as if it is shining. This black is prosperous on his back, legs, and chest and is never darker than the black of one of the roaring machines the humans hide behind. He is still young and without the gray hair from old age. He is built like a typical wolf: strong an larger than your average dog. He is strong and muscular enough that if it ever came for him to fight he would most likely take the winners stance. He does not have many prominent features: graceful yet somehow masculine curves are what connect his body parts together. His thick fur hides the ribs that just barely show, giving others the impression that he is very well fed which he isn't fed as often as he should be. Its much easier to hunt with a companion. His chocolate brown eyes are round and still retain some of their puppy-like looks and his ears are rounded and pointed upwards. Personality: a sweetheart. Kind. Caring. Loyal. All of those words describe Memor. Spineless also describes him: he relies on others to tell him what to do. Anyways, he wouldn't hurt a fly if he could help it. He is wanting a relationship but just can't see himself in one because of his demanding and abrasive friend. That friend would fuck up everything, destroying what relationship he has with a female. Memor is quite loyal if you compare him to other wolves and dogs of present day. Befriend him and he will remain loyal to you. Ask him to complete a task for you and if he agrees to it he will complete the task. He will not leave you waiting for him to do it because of how he is. Some feel attracted to his big sweet-heart personality but others see it as a way to attack him. His large size helps with keeping others at bay, though. Memor is also looking to form a little pack with a few different wolves so that survival will become easier for all of them. He easily makes friends. He can talk to almost anybody, even if they are threatening to kill him. History: This is set in Memor's POV (point of view) so that I can capture his emotions better. It is harder to make a post hold a certain flare to it when it is in the third-person point of view. "Before you start listening to my story, I want you to think a moment. Does everybody really have a sob story of a life? Were we all abused, torn, battered, etc.? No. If you are expecting a story about how I was abused or how my father never came home but then came back and killed my mother and siblings then you might as well go somewhere else. My life was a good one: I just made a decision that altered it drastically. I was born on a warm summer night if my parents told me correctly to a female named Squirrel and a male named Donnie. I had two siblings, both males, named Dru and Boulder. We all lived past the one month mark, which symbolizes that we have a chance of survival. At the age of one month, in my ex-pack, all puppies are given their job in the pack that they must begin to train for. Dru got hunter, Boulder got fighter, while I got one of the most feminine jobs there was available (not that I don't believe females are equal and all). Singer. Which meant I went with the hunters and once they downed a sickly or old deer I would howl to let the others know we will be coming back with food. As I grew older, I kept learning how to be a proper Singer. Dru had already been promoted to his job as did Boulder but I hadn't because I had neglected my studies for a month when the required amount of training is three. To be a singer you have to have a nice voice (which I guess I have) and be able to hold your voice long enough that it carries to the pack. Soon I completed my training and was promoted to the official singer, the old one retiring. At least I was able to retire early, being a singer because as soon as another puppy with a good voice comes they will take over for me. As I accompanied the hunters, I eventually learned to appreciate my job. Hell, I even started to like it a bit. I was growing fast. But don't all puppies grow up to fast for their parents? Anyways, my two brothers had a problem: they hated each other. Why? Well, here is a bit of drama but whatever: Dru had a mate named Sky, Boulder stole that mate for himself, and now they hate each others guts. That is why I didn't get involved with love and relationships when I was younger. Eventually Dru and Sky left the pack after a vicious attack from Boulder injured Dru enough that he could no longer remain a hunter for the pack. I was upset but I lived. Boulder and I never really were close but now he was so cold towards me it was scary. He was an outcast because he had done what he did to his brother, who was loved among the pack by nearly everybody and was nearly driven to insanity with the constant taunts and comments. I was now caring for our parents. Before Dru left he had been taking care of them because he was a hunter. In their last year, I ended up guarding them, bringing them their food because both had stiff joints so bad it nearly killed them to stand, and cleaned out their area. I could have gotten one of the pups to care for them but they wouldn't let anybody but me near them. They no longer considered Boulder their son. I even sang to them when they requested I do so! Eventually they did die: it was a sad day. Both had served the pack well in their eight and nine years. The custom for burial was that all of the siblings dug the hole but because they no longer considered Boulder a son, in respect, he was not allowed to dig. I ended up digging the hole myself. I was the one who suggested they be buried beside each other with their muzzles touching and Donnie's paw on Squirrel's stomach, their burial embrace as we all called it. I sat vigilance over their grave for the night, sitting silently, supposedly warding off the bad spirits who come to take the deceased to Hell. It is said in my pack that if the beloved siblings sit beside the grave it will give the angels enough time to come and take the deceased's soul before demons could grab it. A year after my parents died I left the pack. I was in my early third year when I left the pack. I didn't really want to but it bought back to many memories, both good and bad. I ran for days, resting only when I had too. Eventually I stumbled upon the forest outlining part of the city I have came to love. I can't go into the city a lot, but God, when I do, its wonderful. The sights, the smells, the other dogs who look at me funny... Its all good. And that is my story." Notes: if you have ever watched House M.D you should be able to tell that Memor shares many traits with Wilson even though it may not seem like it. Now I just need to find him a best friend with the personality of House.

[»Mocha«]

ACCEPTED.