Biography
38R
49T
CL
3rd Generation
Wolves in Bloodline
Dadda
Momma
Orson
Snow White
No Face
Artemis
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
The small, slender female yelped and jerked into the air as a wad of spit was sent flying near her rump. The jeers and howls of the wolves behind her could not be ignored, so she did the best she could to muffle the sound. Minerva did her best to keep her stance tall and proud, showing no emotion she walked in such a dominant way. If it was one thing she had learned from her father throughout the years as a Princess, it was to never let them see they got to you.
Her chin raised, banner straight, and eyes closed, she marched out of camp, forcing herself to keep her cool as they snapped and mocked her. Have some manners in every step you take, her mother's voice rang in her head. Now that she was gone, Minerva had been left to deal with her father.
She paused at the border. She took a glance out into the forest, where her paws had never touched, as it was forbidden to cross into those lands. Minerva swallowed nervously, lifting a paw and gingerly placing it on the ground before her. Nothing. She began to place more, gaining confidence as she went. Living along wouldn't be that horrid, would it?
Would it?
Preferences
Minerva drew a pas to her eyes and clawed away a tear partially. The murderers of the wolven race were most peculiar, showing no emotion in a sort of bestial state. Not caring for others, and oh so seemed to pray on the females. The point of breeding? To grow your race. The point of that? More murderers. And what does his lead to. The death of many. Blood stains the grass until the blades crave for more. Dead are littered across the ground when the weak, kind and intelligent are crippled. Leaving only one wolf to the world, and what does he do, then? He is lonely. And he regrets what mistakes he's made.
Through the pain and emotion Minerva managed to tear herself from this dream state. She launched herself at Grim, a cry of revenge rattling the sky above. She didn't care if he had overpowered her, she didn't care if she faced the Reaper. She didn't want to win, then she would just stoop to his level.
"I am sick of the way you live! You are a coward, Grim. A spineless coward!" She screeched, a waterfall flowing from her eyes. Pains in her womb did not phase her. Better to go out without providing him any further toys. "I will go to levels of starving myself to get out of your paws!"
Special Skills
Possible Gear:
Angel Wings [ ]
Red Bandana [X]
Tropical Flower [ ]
Deer Antlers [ ]
Gazelle Horns [X]
Rose [ ]
Spiked Cuffs [ ]
Metal Claws [ ]
Gold Loop Earing [X]
Quiver of Arrows [X]
|
Fall 
Night Weather: 
Fog Moon: 
