Name: Sloan

Gender: Female

Age: 6

Breed: Arctic Wolf

Height: 78cm

Pack: Agavos

Rank Requested: Warrior

Appearance:
From snout to the tip of her tail she is seventy eight centimeters long, being quite large for her female genes. However, a perfect size wolf none the less. Her pelt is thick due to the climate of the harsh winters in the snowy terrain she had to live on. Yet, she can easily be spotted in the sweltering heat of summer usually under the shaded tree. Her facial features include a long muzzle tipped off with a black wet nose and sharpened slightly yellowed fangs. The solid white is perfect for her hiding out in the snow yet when it begins to melt she is a sight for the prey. So, her agility does come in handy. Underneath the thick coat are muscular limbs and muscles she has been able to build up during her time in training. Placed on either side of her forming muzzle are two brightly aqua looking eyes that are sure to catch anyone's attention.

Personality:
Sloan is bored. She's always been bored. Excitement has never truly touched her visage, has never coloured her voice with laughter unless it's something bitter and reproachful. She doesn't have much to think of as exciting, not in her opinion. She's just another rarity among rarities; not that rare. She doesn't see the point of showing excitement if nothing interests her, and making her interested is near impossible. Her voice will always carry that bored drawl, her eyes will always bore into the nothingness of thought, and her lips will forever be a line of indifference. Most see this as simple apathy. No, no; that's not quite correct. They see this as emotionless, devoid of the ability to fester with rage, to swelter with joy, to boil over with sadness. But, she is far from it.

She's, in fact, very good at hiding these emotions. The emotion she most connects to, though, is fear. Fear of drowning in herself and her mind. The fear of drowning in the voices of reason, recklessness, danger, caution. She fears what her actions can do, and therefore does nothing. She doesn't avoid, but she doesn't confront. She stays in a constant state of indifference in hopes that the storm that is she will subside. But does she believe such a thing will happen? No, she's not stupid. She's smart enough to understand that she will always be at war with herself, unless she decides to face it. But facing it is a terror she will save for a much later date, a date in which she expires. When death calls her name and the cold embrace of eternal slumber clutches at her, only then will she allow an armistice to be called within herself.

Humour would have once been something she is known for. Now, it is the simple act of loving for a bored moment, and leaving for an ennui filled eternity. She no longer persists in making those around her laugh, but in watching them cry at the loss of contact. Because watching someone else break into tears and beg and screech is better than her doing it herself.

Photo:

History:
Sloan's life was never terrible she was born into a pack and was raised by her mother as well as her father, both paired Beta's under her grandfather's leadership. Born in the late, the only female born of four brothers she was made for being the younger sister that her brother's protected yet normally didn't want around. However, their training had begun at an early age being taught simple tricks and fighting techniques by five months. Unfortunately, Allistar, had lost his life due to a rogue wolf coming into the lands. However, their mother had said it was the way of life. Not many of the pups are able to survive to their teen years. Luckily enough for Sloan she was able to bare herself for the struggle into adulthood. As the training began to get more vigorous her eldest brother was looking to be a great warrior. Though, perhaps the jealousy and the fear of being capable of being as strong as her brother kept her in the ring. In her pack, the Druids, there was kill or be killed. No happiness, you mated and you reproduced and usually her Grandfather did not play for love rather than he did strongest male and female and forced their bonding.

Sloan couldn't complain, not that she didn't want to but she feared crossing paths with her grandfather. The pack was strong enough for the neighbors to keep away from the boarders, becoming thirty wolves strong in the outskirts region of the snowy planes. Luckily food was abundant as the caribou brought a hearty meal for the large and growing pack. As the other wolf pups grew into their adult hood Sloan was a mischievous as well as devious teen in her days. Always looking for trouble but it usually found her anyway. Being one to fight off anything bigger than her she was caught playing with a bear cub... Now her brother bares a scar for her mistakes across his cheek. Not being able to smell he was brought back to the lowering rank but was oddly not mad, just happy to see her alive.

As she grew up to become wiser and a lot less troublesome, her mother thanked the moon for that. Sloan began to wonder what exactly lies beyond the pack and what other things could await her. She knew that her pack was put forth before anything. To fight and not give up, protect others and think not of herself. The female grew tired of such things, she wished to have an opinion on something. Then again, that was not how she was raised. She was bred by the finest Betas and she would soon be taking her mother's place. Their pack was a vicious one and in order to make sure you succeed you fought. Sometimes to the death, others is who concedes and whoever does is forced to leave. Usually the wolves wished that the honorable thing to do would be to fight to the death, others would rather leave and get their parents a disgraceful name.

Her grandfather had high hopes for his granddaughter. Nala, his daughter and Sloan's mother, was prepared to fight for her position to be kept in the pack. However, she didn't realize who her challenger was. Sloan was not trained to feel, not trained for love. Only to fight and protect, that is what she did. She fought, killing her mother in the process for having her title as the new Beta. The responsibility of the new second in command was a challenging one. Yet nothing that she has not been preparing her whole life for. Her father had later died of a falling sickness and it may have been due to the heart break of loosing his mate. How a daughter could kill their own mother... Sloan didn't understand how you could not. She did not make a connection to her, in fact she believed her to be her superior, nothing of motherly love was given to her. Getting cared for by the caretaker was the only affection she had gotten. To her, the wolf she had killed was just an obstacle in her way of the prize that belonged to her.

Six years old... A year had dragged on and the pack was beginning to go into battle for their lands between the Bog Creek wolves. They had refused to leave their lands and now it was time to attack and be done with the neighboring wolves. Moving her squad of warriors into the battle ground it ended with blood on her paws and chest, around her muzzle and wounds that needed healing yet they won. The only problem was... Their Alpha was killed in battle making Bog Creek's alpha their own. Sloan was soon ran off by the other wolves. Forcing her to leave her pack for good. Traveling far and alone she went rogue for a few months and now is trying to find herself a new home and a new pack she can lend her services to.

Joining Keys: Keys have served their purpose and returned to their hiding spots in the rules - Tundra.

How did you find Age? Wolf RPG

Example Post:
Her eyes maneuvered to glimpse the world around her, she paused for a moment as her ears perked high catching the various sounds of the chirping birds the shuttle of a rabbit running for safety in his burrow. A small smirk rose to her lips as her tongue snaked out and began to run along the black lining of her lips. The sound of a howl was nearby as she shifted her neck up her snout high in the air to answer the call of her brother. A large black wolf erupted from the brush only to tackle the white wolf to the ground, "Honestly brother, you must stop doing that." She snapped not wishing to be apart of his childish games. However, he simply wouldn't quit and most of all hated being rejected when he wished to play. She growled lowly at him as he snatched her tail between his teeth. Flinging her tail to try and shake his hold she twisted her body around only to clamp down against his cheek.

Instantly the younger of the two was quick to release the other's tail, "Come on, Sloan, quit being such a drag. We deserve to have a little fun every once in awhile. Grandfather will never know." Sloan's aqua eyes looked down upon the wolf as he began to rub his cheek with his paw though seemed not to be phased by his sister's sudden lash against him. The male chuckled quietly to himself as he stared over towards his sister. Moving to fall against his back and submit to the older wolf. Rolling her eyes she sat down against her haunches, "You do realize we are supposed to be on patrol right now. Protecting the boarders and what not. It's our first day on the job Allistar and I refuse to become apart of your childish behavior. Now go, do something else productive and quit bothering me." She snapped her tone stern and filled with annoyance. They were about seven months old during this time period.

Her youngest brother rolled up onto his belly and grumbled under his breath before moving up to all fours and walking off. Leaving Sloan back to the silence... Until she heard it. The blood curling howl from her little brother. Quick enough to the scene but she was already to late. Her brother lay in a pile of his own blood his throat detached and just laying there while the large grey wolf stood over him. A rogue... Sloan reacted on instincts however knew she was incapable of fending him off herself. Luckily her brother's cry was heard by other patrolling wolves who came to her aide. The rogue was chased off the territory but never captured. Sloan moved over her brother's body and stared at the black wolf, his eyes young and soulful had now began to look lifeless as the pool around him now covered his chest. A mournful howl and that was all her brother was given. Hauled off and left... That's how they did things. However, she refused and had made sure her brother was given a proper burial.

Sloan sat against the mountain's ledge looking off at the depleting sun. The sky a blood red with hits of orange... Like a flame. She snarled to herself as she had promised herself she would not relive that memory. Snuffing she pushed herself up on all fours as the loner began to wonder off in search for a den to sleep in that night.  

Site Season/Year: Spring 5th Year