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Chilly winds | Dark clouds | Late evening
RP Season: Late Autumn
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Lang's Form
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Lang's Form
I actually just stumbled upon the site through searching for wolf roleplays, but you all seem lovely. <3
Name: Lang.
Age: 3 and a half years.
Gender: Cis male.
Desired Rank: Mage.
Age: 3 and a half years.
Gender: Cis male.
Desired Rank: Mage.
(will expand on all of the below 3 in the bio)
Personality: Lang believes his true purpose in life is to help others, and does his best to live up to it. He is rather soft-spoken, and his voice is said to have a certain calming effect when he's giving advice. He does his best to understand the plights of others and to guide them if they so wish. Outside of his duties as a counselor and healer, he generally keeps to himself and can often be found meditating by the lake. Those who become friends with him will find he's a sensitive soul - sometimes too easily hurt by the words of others. While Lang is generally good-natured and empathetic, hardly the type to hurt a flea, his handicap is his mental Achilles heel. Those who broach the subject with him in a manner he dislikes may find themselves snapped at.
Appearance: Lang is a rather lithe timber wolf, his fur a mixture of brown and black flecked with spots of gold.
History: Born with deformed hind paws, a rare birth defect (one not easily passed on, thankfully for his potential future pups), Lang's life has not been an easy one. He watched as his littermates became hunters and guards for their family, contributing to the brood of loners more than he ever could. His parents loved him just the same as the other pups, or so they claimed. Their looks of pity, however, were unavoidable.
When he turned two years of age, his parents told him what he had known was coming: they could no longer continue to care for him. He saw the signs of age creeping into his father's fur, his once strong jaws that tore with ease now taking minutes to eat the tough meat of the elk - the prey his siblings caught.
He was cast out that night, and for six months he searched for somewhere - anywhere - to call home. He could not hunt for his own meals, forced into stealing the remnants of carcasses from hunters before him. The blood on his muzzle was not always from prey. Often, the hunters would return. Lang had no hope of outrunning them, and so he was forced to outsmart them.
This way of life could not sustain him for long. He arrived at the pack's territory with scarcely any meat on his bones, severely malnourished. If they were to kill him at the time, he would have thought it a mercy. However, he was instead accepted with strangely open arms. The male couldn't stand being useless again. His duty was clear: a Mage.
In the year that has passed since he joined the pack, Lang believes he has generally earned the respect of the other wolves. He swore to himself an oath: that he would serve them, and he would be someone.
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