Name:
- Ronoke. Rono. Noke. Nokie.
Age:
- Roughly 4 years.
Gender:
- Male.
Pack:
- Loner.
Position:
- None.
Appearance:
Eyes- True tales of mystery and foreboding, riddles in the dark, and portals to one’s soul. Caged up spirits that tell stories, hide one’s true feelings, or even share them like an open book. The fuel for lying, or the base of truth. Wonders in themselves, and both the same and different for each wolf.
The eyes tend to tell a lot about a particular being. Their current mood, expression, or simply what’s on their mind. Ronoke’s are as such, but often time tell lies. His most common look to them is one of thought. Innocent enough, but with the simply way his eyes are structured, narrowed, it becomes a look of sinister thoughts.
Eyes that appear to look right though you with an untruthful waver of doubt given the glassy coloration. A bright, and weird, green-gray yellow sort of mixture with a dull over-lay that tones the color down. The mixture simmers near the pupil and grows darker towards the edges as a puddled down version of gold turned silver.
A glance into the murky coloration shows a mirror image. Only showing your own thoughts and feelings, like am empty pool of water. And just like water, it can turn nasty; swallowing one up with a deep wondering of what lies beneath. But what lies beneath Ronoke’s eyes is hardly a mystery. The wolf’s personality is simply what dwells beneath the surface, simply void in the look of his eyes for the most part.
Coat- Though without a pack for a time, Ronoke’s coat isn’t all too shabby. It lacks the luster and sheen most pack wolves have just from the fact that his meals are not quite so often and filling. Goes to show you that vitamins are important. However, the young male’s fur is plenty thick, even if it doesn’t look as such. It lays flat along his body, leaving only the dark bristly guard hairs standing up. Given that, his fur looks very much wispy and light.
The color of his coat is light with a few variations of each color. A large majority of it is a dusty cream white that slowly turns into a silver gray on the upper portions of his body as guard hairs. The silver darkens around his neck and shoulder area before turning red on his ears, and again a dark grey above his eyes. Variations of both tan and silver cover his rump before a dark gray takes over his tail.
In different lighting, his coat seems to be always different. The silver, beige, tans, and reds all reflect differently with the different lights; Dawn, sun-high, dusk, and the moon with all it’s stages.
Build- His eyes build up hype, giving the male a look and air that only a great wolf should carry. One confident and proud, with the size to back it up. One with great broad shoulders and thick bulky limbs. Like a typical childhood bully. Now think of the counterpart; a nerd, and you have Ronoke.
His size is respectable in height, falling only an inch or so below what’s normal for male wolves of his age (About 33 inches at the shoulder). But his bulk doesn’t match up in any way. His limbs are powerful, no denying that, but the muscle they have are lithe and stretched. Not made for hauling or pushing, but rather for quick movements. Narrow-set shoulders accent them and make him a wolf of little standards, but quick movements.
On the downside, because he’s both tall and slender, it makes him a bit clumsy when he’s distracted.
Personality: Even as a young pup, passion and a thick head for getting what he wanted were traits Ronoke has possessed; and still does. If an idea got into his head, he’d pursue his new found dream, regardless of the obstacles. His stubborn will, and desire to be the biggest and the best proved to be the victor; rarely letting him give up. To many, a blessing, but to him, it wavered to the bad side. He’d be struck dumb getting what he wanted, but discarded it with boredom moments after getting it. Not in all cases, but many.
We all know that you can’t get what you want unless you show that you want it and a ruffle your fur a little. And time and time again, Ronoke proved to be the tough wolf his brothers were; despite being the youngest. Tussling with the other males and even flirting with the she-wolves, he truly was a macho man.
Tough and ornery he often acted, but it was hardly nothing more. Though he did put on a good act, and stick to it like the heard-headed wolf he is. When he was in the zone, none could see what a true coward he was. He tussled, but did not fight. He threatened, but never carried those out. A lover; not a fighter.
Being that lover, he tends to be more of a follower; not a leader. His mind absorbs things like a sponge–more or less the reason why he get’s such wild dreams into his head. So say the right words and he can be swayed, but try and stop him there after and almost nothing will help.
Ronoke was blessed with such a diverse personality, and strong suited skills to carry each aspect out flawlessly. His great macho act to scare competition off, or even put a wolf in it’s place if he had to. He can act the part and show himself to be a fearsome competitive wolf with a sharp barbed tongue to hide all faults (the wolf he was a s a guard). Or another act; a sweet lady-killer to sway one’s mind. Or his best skill of all; running away. Built for nothing but the littlest brawls, Ronoke’s speed picks up the slack and can carry him away if all falls through.
So mixed up on what’s an act and what isn’t, the male can prove to be a confusing companion. But a useful one.
History: Off in the not to far distance, the standards of packs changed a little. Authority and order was still kept, but the law of the pack and how they ran was a little...mixed up.. Titles were stripped and rules were changed. A new generation of living had been invented.
The pack leaders were simply called Rulers. The title of the Ruler was hard to come by, seeing how it was inherited by the children of the current Rulers. Mother and father would keep the title so long as their children could not beat them–once one of them defeated their father, both parents were stripped of the rank and lived in retirement as a commoner of the pack. It was inevitable that one day the parents would be beaten by their children, but until then, they were as protective as any parents should be. Their young had guards, as did they.
The rest of the pack was set up with roles such as guards, nurses, protectors, spies, and the commoners. For a ‘non-royal’ bred wolf, the highest rank you could wish for was a guard. Those of that role were assigned to protect a member of the Ruler’s family. Be they the Rulers themselves or their children. Nurses watched over all young, even those of the commoners. Protectors were the fit wolves that were generally the hunters and raiders. Often times, they were mateless. The spies scouted surrounding land and packs; reporting any news to the Rulers. Commoners were the rest of the wolves. They jointed the protectors if needed, but were often retired, old, or simply had no desire to gain a higher rank.
In this pack, the Rulers were not the only ones allowed to mate. Commoners, if they wished, could mate with the Ruler’s consent. Being their pack lands were usually large, their pack was also. Call it dumb, but the Rulers cared little of the prey factor.
Ronoke was no pup of a Ruler, but born of two commoners in a litter of five. He was fourth born, and noticeably scrawnier than the rest; though his legs would prove to be long and sturdy. Being he was just a commoner, special care was not taken. He and his four siblings were simply raised by both parents and a helpful nurse that came around as they grew. That nurse was a story teller like no other–having served the Rulers for awhile, she had stories to tell. For hours, young Ronoke would sit at her feet and swallow up her tales and scraps of information on guards and their duty to the Ruler’s family. With these tales, Ronoke developed a fantasy that one day, he too, would be a guard.
So his puppy days went by with a gruelingly slow pace, making young Ronoke anxious and impatient for the day he would be of age to join the ranks of a guard. Until then, he set his little heart on the dream and took in all the information that was handed out to him during his training on how to properly be a pack member. How to hunt, scent, stalk, and care for your family. It was simple enough, and the training carried Ronoke and all of his siblings into their yearling age. Their child-hood swept away with no difficulties.
As he wished, he tried out for the position of guard, and again, as he wished, he got it. It was a slim margin that let him in due to his lack of bulk, but they saw his speed, devotion, and wit enough to let him join.
At the time he was accepted, there was a shortage of guards in the pack, and a growing number of Ruler offspring. It gave Ronoke a quick chance to try out his skill. For he was assigned to guard a she-wolf of his same age; Kili. It wasn’t exactly the most boastful job, seeing how guarding one your own age would just fuel arguments and be not much of a job. But he took it anyways.
Kili proved to be a fireball, though. Ronoke would say one thing, and she’d do another. He’d want to sit and relax, but Kili would be far from done. It went on like this for a year, Kili dragging young Ronoke around the pack’s lands; never satisfied, and scoffing at his pointless demands. In the end, it became something of a game. Her sharp attitude against his quick wit and speed. Her temper would bring them far off, but is wit would bring them back. Both wanted their ways, but Ronoke was simply more hard-headed.
And as fairy tales go, a bit of a spark ignited between them. Guards were not allowed to have mates, but Ronoke figured it wouldn’t hurt if he mated–being he was the male and it wouldn’t effect him. But Kili and her temper wouldn’t have it. Yes, she did have a thing for young Ronoke, but she was of Ruler blood, and supposed to follow the rules as an example. But Ronoke was stubborn and often always got his way. They’d go against the pack and be mates.
Had the Ronoke been more intact on doing his job, he wouldn’t have thought of such things. But he was like a child and grew bored quickly. Which led up the disaster in his life–as most wolves have one–and the fall of his good life.
Because of their large numbers and lose rules, bordering packs grew fed up with the lack of prey around them. Most sent threats; either they set up rules and stayed off their lands, or there would be trouble. Not phased, life rolled on. Ronoke and Kili still had their ritual outings around the territory. However, on this day, Ronoke urged her to go further. The sights grew boring, and he wanted something new. Knowing he was stubborn, Kili only agreed. They had crossed a good ways into a new territory when a small group of hunters stumbled across them. They, to say the least, were angered. They’d given their threats and they were not headed; so they’d act on them.
Outnumbered, there was really little the two wolves could do. Ronoke accepted their fate, but Kili had always been fiery, and opened her mouth. That led the opposing wolves to pick her to use as an example. Ronoke was blocked off and Kili, killed.
On her death bed, she gave Ronoke a bit of an insult; “You are never satisfied, Nokie. Like a child, you don’t know what you want until someone else has it. You don’t know you want it until it’s gone..but once you got it...you don’t want it. Grow up.”
Not sure to be amused or stunned, Ronoke simply did what came to mind. He ran to save his own hide. If he went back, he’d certainly lose his job, his manhood, and with that; his pride. That and since he and urged Kili to cross the borders, the packs were bound to attack. He for one, did not want to be around when they got their butts kicked.