All righty. LM here, needing somebody that's not a Skah or Amarth for a bit of a change of pace. :)

Name: Whisper

Age: 6 months

Gender: Female

Pack: Loner

Position:

Appearance: Whisper has the standard pelt of a timber wolf. Whites, grays, and an occasional bit of tan mingle to create a pretty mix of colors. Her pelt was thick and of medium length. She wasn't the largest pup, though she would grow to be good sized. The fact that she could always catch some small prey, even after her mother was gone, meant she did not grow weak and skinny. In fact, she was quite the well muscled gal, even for a pup, though not hulking. Her optics were a soft gold color, and always seemed to hold a kind expression. When she smiled, it was a sweet smile, placed delicately upon her maw. Her auds always stood alert, unless she needed to flatten them to show submission. Her voice seemed gentle and delicate, angelic. Her tail was beginning to feather, indicating it's future grace once she became an adult.

Personality: What if one had to describe Whisper's personality in one word? Well, that would be quite difficult, for there is not one word that could describe it with complete accuracy. If one had to, the word would be animated. Despite the tragedies in her life, such as the death of her brother and her mother, and never knowing her father, she always seemed cheerful. A friendly wag of the tail was never far away when Whisper was around. She was a pup that definitely liked to play, and pouncing on a butterfly or grasshopper was once of her favorite things to do. However in other ways, she might seem subdued. She wasn't one to really play with other pups, but that wasn't because she didn't like it per se, but rather she'd never had other pups to play with. She also seemed to be somewhat serious, as if always on the alert for danger. However, much of her personality shall still come to be developed. She is, after all, just a pup now. There's always room for growth.

History: Whisper's mother underwent a tragedy just hours before giving birth. She was a loner along with her mate, and so did not have the protection of a pack. They also lived in an area where human hunters were not unheard of. Well, the day that she was to give birth, her mate was shot and killed by a human, leaving her to flee the scene and find another den, one less close to humans, she hoped. It was very late fall, it was very chilly, but the fae was determined to find a place to whelp her cubs. And she found one, a cave that no other animal inhabited. It was a very small cave, one only big enough for her and her cubs, if she didn't have a large litter, but it would suffice for the small litter she was about to have. Contractions hit her hard, and all of a sudden, her first pup was born. She named her Whisper, because of the whisper of wind that seemed to come into the cave just as the cub slipped out. There were only two cubs in that litter, and soon after Whisper, she birthed a male she named Chico, after her lost mate.

Sadly, Chico never survived past two months. Just as the cubs became old enough to begin eating meat, Chico suddenly and mysteriously died. It was just one more tragedy, but Whisper nor her mother could dwell. They were loners, and they had to press on without the security of a pack. After two weeks of eating regurgitated meat, and two more of eating fresh, solid kill, it was time that the three-month-old Whisper learn about hunting. Loners just had to learn early. Food had been rather scarce, as it was winter, but a snowshoe hare always seemed to turn up at just the right time. When spring came, Whisper had already mastered hunting the hares, so her mother decided to teach her how to hunt a larger prey when she was about 5 months old. Her mother killed a doe, leaving her newborn fawn for Whisper, which Whisper managed to take down, though not quite as easily. It was good that it was just a small newborn.

But just weeks after this kill, yet another tragedy struck Whisper's young life. Another wolf challenged her mother for territory, and her mother died in the fight. Whisper had no choice but to flee the scene. But her mother had taught her a few things, one being that if anything should happen to her, Whisper should hunt what she could but try to find a pack to join. Her mother had been in a pack before, and taught Whisper some things about respecting higher ranks, and how to show submission. And despite the fact that much of her time spent with her mother had been hunting and trying to decide, her mother did teach her to enjoy the simple things in life. She taught her to stop and smell the flowers once in a while, so to speak. She taught her daughter to be a bright, playful spirit, which most pups are anyway. So, Whisper was not totally doomed to die without her mother, having been taught a few things. Now, she has made it here, and seeks a pack to call home. Would a pack around here take her in?

ACCEPTED! but of course ^.^

Hehe, that's the picture I first used for Kisu! wow...brings back memories. :-)