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Tattoo
Jun 13, 2009 9:47:58 GMT -5
Post by crimson on Jun 13, 2009 9:47:58 GMT -5
What to name?... Tattoo How long?... 4 years Rose or thorn?… Male Historical calling?... Appenzeller Sennenhund What happened before?... Born in an abandoned farm house Tatt never really had much chance to socialise because his two siblings died at birth and when his mother was not out finding food or defending him and the pack from the other dogs in the territory she was sleeping. So she wasn’t much help in learning things either. His young life was interesting, his mother been a defender in one of the strongest packs in the area, though she was one of the lower defenders he was pretty proud that she was one. The thing was that she was not supposed to nor allowed to become pregnant, so unlike the other pups that were born into the pack and raised by the pack he was born outside. He had to go the pack Alphess himself and request to be part of the pack. If she decided not she would kill him, unless he could run fast enough that is. The alphess knew who his mother was and so did the rest of the pack, for that she had already been punished, but if Tatt gave any recognition of her when he attempted entrance into the pack or while he stayed with them. They would both be murdered. At the age of six months his mother decided he was old enough to enter the pack, and so the process began. He was accepted but only because of one reason, he was like his mother had been a large and strong puppy who still had growing ahead of him; Perfect for the warriors. He was put into the care of a foster parent who was to raise him and teach him how to fight and pack law. Two months after his adoption into the pack another pack declared war, his training suddenly became very stressful. By the time he was ten months the queen expected him on the battlefield, fighting alongside the warriors of the pack. He fought bravely but not even he could stop what had been set in process by his birth, warriors from two rival packs coming together in a way they were forbidden. Neither of the two could fight properly enough and both ended up turning on their own pack, others who were fed up with the boundaries joining them. In the end both packs along with his parents were destroyed. So many things set in motion all because of one puppy. Afterwards survivors scavenged around, searching for anything and anyone worth saving. That was the moment he met Rocky. His wounds had been bad, a long slice down his belly threatened to release his bowls while another near his throat was startlingly close to his aorta. Rocky saved his life that day, lying on his bleeding body until the blood stopped flowing. Hunting and scavenging for him until he was strong enough to stand, walk, run. Rocky taught him things, the things his mother was supposed to, the things he need to know. Rocky was more of a friend and parent than he could have ever asked for. But rocky died. He was an old dog and none can live forever. So with a heavy heart he left his homeland in search for a better place that would not be set in motion by who he was. A place where he was not the one to begin the process. Who is he?... Because of the first six months of his life he craves others’ contact yet because of that he does not always know how to conduct himself. It is such a downfall in his mind that even though he craves it he fears it as well, the contact of another living thing. Sometimes he can be found talking to himself though; he finds it much easier to think things over verbally than silently. He finds it gives him more space to think. He doesn’t know whether he his evil or good, some of the things does affects both sides giving him a muddied perception of himself. If some one decides to trouble him, depending on how the other dog is and looks he will either fight back or flee. He thinks logically, most of his actions for himself only because in his life he has never had another to worry about and most likely has no idea what it means to care for another. Sample post…And so it put the process in movement, starting another creation…or destruction and as per usual there were two paths to choose. He knew it had started with his birth. He knew he was the reason for this war. He knew that he had no choice but to obey because if he didn’t Aeila would kill him without thought. He was a nothing, a grain of sand if even that could be said, no one took notice of the bastard puppy that walked through the territory. They were afraid to. He was strong, he scarred most of the other pups, and they always ran to their mothers when they saw him coming. He saw that, he knew what the mothers did and said to comfort them about his coming. Things that his mother would never do. It didn’t help much that Bill was his caretaker, the bull mastiff with the scar across his eye. The dog shouldn’t be one to raise another. He was disturbed, his mind never fully completing the thinking course, he could be compared to a human drunk. All his frustrations and angers taken out on Tatt, but he wasn’t there tonight. The battle was tomorrow. He sighed before curling up on the hard ground, he could see anything, the shed he called home had no windows, only a door that had only been opened enough to allow entry. His eyes closed and soon he was in a world of his own.
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Tattoo
Jun 13, 2009 20:22:50 GMT -5
Post by zappy on Jun 13, 2009 20:22:50 GMT -5
Approved<3 Welcome to RA!
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