@Spectyr

Rune, Nyx & Anya are accepted

@EvergreenHills

Astraea is accepted

@TheCuteHuskyPack

Both are reserved for ya

Hmm.

Would it be possible for me to reserve the Master Cheftain of the Hunt? If not that's fine :D

@Boeing

Reserved for you

Ares

4 years

Male

Warlord

Content

He's possibly not that well known other than the pack knowing his name. This is due to him keeping to himself most of the time.

Slightly annoyed, slightly intrigued. He loves a good fight and is definitely interested in how this will turn out. He doesnt necessarily want a fight between the siblings, at least not a physical one. It could be interesting though.

Ares is 2 feet and 7 inches tall and 4 feet 2 inches long. He weighs a little more than average at about 85 pounds.

His main fur color is a light red-brown over an off-white underbelly. His eyes are a piercing, bright, gold and amber. His nose the color of red bricks. His muzzle is pure black around his nose which fades until it reaches his eyes.

His eyebrows are white but he has black almost cheetah like eye markings which, like cheetahs, allow him slightly better sight towards the sun.

His inner ears are pink with white fur lining. The tips of his ears are black, possibly a bit of dark brown.

Is there a discussion for this RP yet?

The Discussion Is Open !

Everything but his a more detailed personality should be good ta go. Thank ya for your patience. ^^

Credit to skyfever@DA for the images

Name:

Colvyr

Meaning “One who resembles a dove, peaceful and calm”

Age:

7 Years and counting

Gender:

Male

Rank:

Second Consort

Desired Rank:

Content, though he’ll follow where his mate goes

Reputation:

The chill to Khalina’s flame. The whispering gale to her thundering storm. To the pack, Colvyr is a blatant contrast to his Noble Madam. His methodology of “ruling” takes a much kinder albeit still parental approach. Compared to his mate, he is much more willing to “overlook” more minor mistakes, cutting others a bit of slack. Though, correction is still applied. Instead of Khalinia’s roaring fury, he’ll respond in soft reprimands and gentle reminders. A little nudge versus her snappy reproaches. He is much more patient towards disrespect shown his and his mate’s way, retaining his fatherly scolding… but those who have been on the receiving end always seem to recount a glint of malice in his eyes that others swear not to exist.

Thoughts On The Trails:

A test of strength and grit is what they are. A means to bolster the pack’s might rather than numbers. He is content with their existence, though always concerned when his own flesh and blood are involved. Not that he would show it.

Appearance:

Colvyr is a bear in wolf’s clothing, a beast of tall stature and broad body. He stands at 34 inches at the shoulder, over the average of a typical gray wolf though not by much. Looming over others is not an uncommon occurrence for him, being likely taller than most within the pack. But he is no less polite and still angles his head to meet their eyes. Well toned muscles intertwine themselves with his coat, a cast of natural iron for his body. It is nothing like it once was, having diminished in age like an armor’s sheen, but remains nothing to scoff at. He can still certainly hold his own in hunts or battle! He is simply more liable to struggle lose the difficult ones he could have won in the past. His decline in muscle is especially prominent around his hips, where over the past few months his bones have begun to slightly protrude. In the mornings now, he has also started to notice a slight strain on his hips, a wobble to his motion… not that he would tell anyone. Outside of this region, any muscular loss is hard to decipher due to his thick bones. His legs are slightly shorter than that of the average wolf though more broad, giving him a mort stocky look on top of his burly appearance. Paired with this are immensely large paws with reasonable though dull claws. Had wolves known of their dire counterparts, he would be comparable to one. It is a form ill suited for speed, but wonderful for taking hits.

A mane of a coat graces the male’s physique, luxurious and quite stunning for his age. Each hair is longer than the next and extends well past their foundations. Like that of a lion’s, this layer of fur acts as padding during battle – lessening the extent of damage any one blow can do. As such, no scars can be seen along the areas this lengthy mat covers as though erased from memory. Even in the summer where fur is naturally shed, this pelt of his remains woolen – the loss of hairs being barely noticeable. On the warmer days, it can be quite the nuisance and often leads him to take to smaller or shallow bodies of water to cool off. Still, its texture is wonderful like his mate’s due to her care (though he still much prefers hers). He insists that such dotting is not necessary but she never has it for that “excuse.” At the very least, he has managed to ward off most of his offspring from doing the same. Thanks to the… rather constant grooming, it can appear quite glossy on some days. Some mats or knots do worm their way into his hairs once in a while, but they’re always promptly taken care of.

The Consort’s head is well defined thanks to his fluffy coat – outlined perfectly from the rest of his body. His fur is much shorter here, as it would be on any wolf, giving him a more disk-shaped appearance thanks to his prominent and constant cheek fluff. The dip between forehead and snout is very prominent and hard to miss as a result of the sudden change. His snout is narrow and a smidge longer than those of others, though nothing terribly out of the ordinary. Perhaps it is the aforementioned shift in density that causes it to seem as such, but no one is for certain. A smaller, aged scar runs it from the top of his muzzle down to his chin on the left side – near to his nose. Out of habit, he can be seen trailing his tongue of the scar when in deep thought. His ears are centered in the midst of all his wiry fur, appearing to seamlessly sprout from the contour of his body. Their foundations are difficult to spot unless close up or in the summer. An astute and focused expression is typically held in the presence of others, attentive and serious in all rights. To the large majority pack, it is fairly out of character for him. His demeanor and general approach to conversations is all too… lax for such a serious nature. But those close to him know otherwise.

Colvyr’s coat is comparable to the feathers of crows and ravens, a dark black that strikes the eyes of those who look upon it. It is near pitch black in shade, painting his body in shade and shadow. There is very little deviation from the darkness, save the lines treading the back of his upper legs – both front and hind. If not for its glossy sheen, it could be considered rather dull and uninspiring. However, a small ounce of light sprouts from his chest – a single patch of white streaking down his chest. It starts at the bottom of his neck and slopes towards the arch of his legs. The streak is skinny in nature, sticking to the middle line of his and going no further. It is a wonder it has yet to be snuffed out. A speckle of gray hairs has begun to take root along the tips of his muzzle as well. They are easy to spot against their darkened backdrop though are few in number. His eyes are duller in color – a green-tinted yellow that is arguably gray is many lightings. They stand out against his cloak of raven’s fur, but are nothing to marvel over. They can, however, be more expressive than himself but are certainly no “windows to the soul.” He can mask his feelings well enough when he pleases.

A deep pitched voice rumbles from this canine whenever he speaks – a melodic tone that can put brass players to shame. It is rumbly yet smooth as a trombone or tuba, a serenade to the ears of many. Though, his kids would often describe it as a “middle-aged father about to send his pups on their first hunt.” Whatever it is they mean by that. Its tone is “light” and caring but not exactly jolly. It is the voice any younger would want to hear when in trouble, a promise for a… lighter scolding unless they did something really stupid. Though, like any father, it can gain a harsh bite when he deems fit… if that “harsh bite” was a hint of malice that is. Over the years, he has had enough practice with some particularly wryly and insubordinate fiends to hone it strictly for the ears of one or two. His family is always spared from this approach.

Personality:

Easygoing || Collective || Teasing || “Goofy” || Gentle-ish || Loyal || Devoted || Hardworking (Surprisingly) || Fatherly || Protective || Wise || Patient || Selectively Observant || Seemingly Crazy (To Some) || Superstitious… Sorta || Family Oriented || Bold || Serious When Need Be || Vengeful || Merciless

“These tests are nothing to fear. Many before you and endure them, and many after you will. You have been training for this for some time now. You will do just fine.”

“Do you hear the ravens sing?”

Crush:

His darling mate of course

Relationship Status:

Happily taken by Khalina

Familial Ties:

Open

Familial Relationships:

Open

Offspring:

Any offspring of his are lights within his life. And he’d do anything to defend their lives and honor.

Open to yearlings or older

Pack Affiliations:

Open

Other:

- Colvyr has a tendency to look to ravens for signs of danger and change. Though most wolves do, his observations of them are a bit more… astute that others – picking up “signals” that appear to be… non-existent. This leaves many within the pack to believe him to be slightly deranged.

- The male’s name stems from his old personality, one marked with honey and all things sweet and quaint. Though he is still a more kind wolf, a lot of this sweetness has worn off. He has especially lost his more peaceful side.

It has been reported that anywhere from 25-75% of a gray wolf’s diet is made up of beaver, depending on the area and season. Chickens are rarely a part of it.

Credit to skyfever@DA for the images

@High Hills

Colvyr is accepted

@Boeing

Fenrys is accepted