Biography
There's nothing more dire
Than feeling the warmth of the setting sun
On a winters day
Sunlight dwindles
Resentment for the moon grows
Higher, higher,
The orb reaches its peak,
It's light pales in comparison
To my bright true love,
Who greets me every morning
With sunshine and a promise for a good day
How I hate the moon,
In its lies and deception,
For it is cold and dark,
And I, I need warmth to brighten this
Cold, dark heart
I am between the twins and the ram. The twins jokes and banter disturb my peace, while the raging ram is who I am supposed to be: loud, fearless, a nuisance. I am but a bull in a china shop, carefully stepping over each crack, afraid of the damage that will be done if I dare give all my weight to someone else.
The ram batters me around like a toy, telling me, "Toughen up. You're no good walking on eggshells like that. Be loud, be boisterous."
But what the ram doesn't understand is I am the one who has to pick up the pieces. The large pieces, the small pieces, the infinitesimal pieces that have me stuck sweeping for weeks; they're all my burden to carry.
The twins treat me like a game of catch. They toss me into the air with their words, their sentences blitzing past me at a speed a bull could never keep up with.
They call me stupid; slow. I begin to wonder if it's true.
I go to mother. My true mother.
"Venus," I call out.
She comes to me.
She doesn't speak. She says not a word. Her energy is stable. The silence and calm says more than anything that has ever come out of the mouths of the twins.
"Mother Venus," I enunciate. "You're the one who created me, why put me where I don't belong? Why give me strength, but make me afraid to use it?"
Venus shushes me without doing a thing. Her indistinguishable, alluring scent that has driven billions to lust - to madness - wafts my senses. I don't go lustful. I don't go mad. I go calm. It feels like home.
She tells me, "Mind not the pair of siblings, nor take any notice of the ram. Your strength lies in your head, capable of bearing the worst of storms."
She begins to leave. The cold creeps on me, feeling like bugs pattering away on my skin. I beg her to stay, to allow me to come with her to her home, wherever her home is.
Deep down we both know that's not possible.
I feel earth at my feet.
Breeding Info
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Special Skills
Born under the sign of Taurus, Goldie is as strong as a bull - if not more so. She is considered the strongest in the pack (to the dismay and delusional disapproval of *cough, won't say any names, cough* others) and unfortunately for her, she considers her power to be more of a curse.
She quite literally does not know her own strength. She tiptoes around the camp, she refuses to go on hunting patrols, and heaven-forbid she gets anywhere near a pup. Sheratan, her mother, constantly tells her to "grow up" and to "utilize your power" but how can a power so destructive be utilized in a coherent way?
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Winter Month: 1 
Day 
Nose Pushing
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