Biography
Among the crowded pack camp, there was a small fae weaving her way throughout the canines. Her luscious pelage shone ever so slightly in the warm sunlight, but that was more than enough to bring the attention of the males of the pack towards her. The way she raised her grey-marked head in a defiant manner, and the way the muscles moved underneath her ochre pelt.
The markings upon her pelt were ravishing, too. Many had told her so. A cider brindle and tan belton complimenting her ochre fur rather well. Her faint white speckles seemed to match the slate in the form of a frontal marking, front socks and three-ringed tail. In truth, she was such a gorgeous fae that almost none could avoid gazing at her as she strutted past. At least, that is what Caspotel always told herself - rather confidently, too.
It was one of those days where the golden-eyed female was nimbly strutting through camp, when a male intercepted her. She hardly took notice of his gorgeous pelt, his rather handsome face and his lovely-built body. No, she purely noticed his rather pretty, clear blue eyes. Oh, how lovely they were! The ochre femora felt as if she could disappear into them forever. She had, in truth, been about to compliment said masculine, and then he opened his maw and began to speak.
"Hello, Little One." The male said ever so softly. Despite this, his voice felt thunderous against the damsels audits, in which she pinned against her cranium in distaste. How dare he call her 'Little One'! "And how are you on this lovely day?" He added, blinking those not-so-lovely blue eyes. His voice sounded scratchy to her ears, and his maw seemed to move far too much to form said words.
"Greetings," the fae started curtly, her tassel flicking slightly as she raised her head further, aiming to become taller than the larger male. "I was good enough, until I began speaking with filth such as you. And how are you feeling upon this once-lovely day?" Caspotel replied, her voice pitching in a way that suggest that, in fact, she did not care. "Actually, never mind those pleasantries," the female seemed to flick a glance over her shoulder, and before long her golden-gaze was back upon the masculine. "Such things are unneeded for such a conversation, correct?"
"Indeed, Little One." The male murmured, tilting his head to the side, his audits perking, compared to her own flattened ones. "You are correct, of course. You always are." The way the masculine said those supposedly kind words made them seem like a jab, like a blow aimed with words. It made the female recoil inside, but she remained standing where she was.
"Is that so?" The damsel questioned softly, banner lashing against her left side only once. "And, if I might add, if I am 'Little One,' then you must be something, too. What about... Hmm..." The fae feigned the action of pondering for a few moments, before she suddenly brightened up and smiled warmly at the male. "What about 'Idiotic One'? I think it is lovely, and suits you rather well, don't you agree?" The female asked, a sassy tone entering her voice. "Oh, don't get that angry look," she sighed, as if having expected it to happen. "Anger resolves nothing, am I incorrect, Idiotic One?" The damsel asked, a sarcastic vibe practically radiating off of her lithe form.
The masculine in front of her let out a low sound that resembled a growl. This had the guard hairs upon Caspotel's back shooting upward, and the small fae backing up slightly. "What, scared?" The male sneered, the kindness removed from his voice as pure annoyance took its place. Had the female pushed her boundaries too far this time? With hardly a second thought, Caspotel turned around sharply and bolted across the camp, her smaller figure coming in handy as she dove between wolves. If she could make it back... She didn't even know what the male would do to her in his anger and annoyance! It was pure fear and adrenaline that made her run for it.
With audits perked, the female heard the males panting breath right behind her. How close was he? Desperately, her head moved from side to side to spot a certain female. Where was she? Where was Metallica, her loving, protective mother? Another moment passed, her breath feeling like jagged teeth within her lungs. There! Caspotel skidded upon her flanks, coming to a swift pause, before she was upon her mitts once more and running to her dam, relief coursing through her veins as soon as the aqua eyes of her mother met her own golden ones.
"Mother!" The word escaped her maw, and she spotted the flash of ivory as her dam bared her teeth at the male behind her.
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
Caspotel loves to strut her stuff. She's a confident and sassy little female that loves to disagree with any pack member that may accidentally stop too long to chat with her. She has perfected her arguing with almost all subjects if only to have a topic on hand ready for dispute. Caspotel tends to run back to her mother, Metallica, when she is injured and almost always begs for her mother to fetch some potions off of The Misaki Pack's healer.
Preferences
Caspotel's preference when she isn't arguing is to spend time with her mother, Metallica. She loves Metallica dearly but also knows that it had been a struggle to allow her to be kept when her mother birthed the disappointing pup. Metallica was only permitted to breed to Hard Wired To Self Destruct, so when she gave birth to a litter than looked nothing like Hard Wired, there was a pack tiff. Caspotel and her mother constantly watch one another's back.
Special Skills
Caspotel is particularly skilled in harassing other pack members. The male pack members can sometimes get a little too rowdy because Caspotel is a pretty little female; they all think so. Even if she likes stirring up the other pack members and dragging them into disagreements.
Bio Continued
It was a natural reaction, but Caspotel almost felt 'shame,' - although she hardly seemed to know the meaning of the word - as she hid behind the flank of the larger female, cowering away from the male. Had she narrowly escaped injury, or simply made a fool of herself? Regardless, she was glad that she had spotted her mother when she had, for her limbs were shaking and her breath coming in pants. Perhaps she should learn how to better recognize when boundaries were being pushed too far, and when enough was enough. No matter. She was safe now, with Metallica. Oh, how much trouble she would be in if it weren't for her mother!
This wolf bio was written by the talented Polly | Pack Number 197793 | Personality, Skills & Preferences were all written by myself, Misaki 2072.
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Spring 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
