Lazarus
Last Details | |
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Death Age | 7 years 8½ months (Elder) |
Sex | Male |
Personality | Independent |
Breeding Records | |
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Death Age in Rollovers | 185 |
Pups Bred | 658 pups bred |
Looks | |
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Base | Losna (0.14%) |
Base Genetics | Special Dark * |
Eyes | Novus |
Skin | Lusxnei |
Nose | Dark |
Claws | Black |
Mutation | None |
Secondary Mutation | Piebald: Torn |
Carrier Status | Unknown |
Variant | Default |
Markings | |
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Slot 1 | Moonlight Aurora (52%) |
Slot 2 | Black Inverted Cross (81%) |
Slot 3 | White Urajiro (50%) |
Slot 4 | Brown Saddle Ticking (67%) |
Slot 5 | Brown Lupos (30%) |
Slot 6 | Brown Shoulders (41%) |
Slot 7 | Black Merle Patches (50%) |
Slot 8 | Auburn Ghast (36%) |
Slot 9 | None |
Slot 10 | Black Limbs (44%) |
Birth Stats | ||
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Strength | Speed | Agility |
49 | 46 | 46 |
Wisdom | Smarts | Total |
49 | 45 | 235 |
Birth Information | |
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Moon | Waxing Crescent Moon |
Season | Autumn |
Biome | Grasslands |
Biography
"We had finally decided to end the reign of terror from the mountain's maws. The snow was thick, so was the storm. The blizzard, unrelenting, threatened to cut our efforts short - but how could we ever go back home without our prize? It had taken too much from us, into the darkness of this winter. No, eyes were set on the mark, even after Quinn protested - winter would not take another pup of ours.
But it was as if nature itself was denying of the bounty, winds in a cacophony of rage, shadows deceitful in the corner of the eye. Mother moon nowhere to be seen - perhaps she wished not to be part of such carnage, and the thought was not one bit reassuring.
We finally found it - had the stars forsaken us? The stench of death and blood and gore were all things we were prepared for, but from our own, not our prey - not just yet, anyway. Yet there it lied, it's fur pristine between the smears of crimson.
A wolf at it's side, something out of this world. Massive, and with eyes that pierced with the furor of the forests - unlike we had ever seen. We had been beaten to the goal, and whoever had done it was gone, unable to hear our dissent.
Defeated, in a way, but aware this meant safety would blanket our pack once more. We turned to leave, but something ... A sound, so soft it was hard to hear it at all, but so clear even against the storming gusts. Whimpers of a newborn pup, had we been amongst the ice and snow for too long? Our minds playing cruel tricks ... No, we all heard it.
On the venter of what we pressumed to be your mother, there you lied. Alone, blind still yet writhing with vitality. You found nothing but entrails when squirming for a place to nurse, how cold must that embrace had been? How desperately obsessed was this huntress with her prey? It mattered not ... After all, it is written the moon had revealed to all wolves the truth in ages before: "only life can pay for life".
We like to think we honored your mother when we took you that day - that fur and those eyes, same as the corpse we saw that fateful day. Amongst the trophies from her hunt which would later dress your form, her same fur and eyes, you'll became nothing short of greatness, Lazarus."
But it was as if nature itself was denying of the bounty, winds in a cacophony of rage, shadows deceitful in the corner of the eye. Mother moon nowhere to be seen - perhaps she wished not to be part of such carnage, and the thought was not one bit reassuring.
We finally found it - had the stars forsaken us? The stench of death and blood and gore were all things we were prepared for, but from our own, not our prey - not just yet, anyway. Yet there it lied, it's fur pristine between the smears of crimson.
A wolf at it's side, something out of this world. Massive, and with eyes that pierced with the furor of the forests - unlike we had ever seen. We had been beaten to the goal, and whoever had done it was gone, unable to hear our dissent.
Defeated, in a way, but aware this meant safety would blanket our pack once more. We turned to leave, but something ... A sound, so soft it was hard to hear it at all, but so clear even against the storming gusts. Whimpers of a newborn pup, had we been amongst the ice and snow for too long? Our minds playing cruel tricks ... No, we all heard it.
On the venter of what we pressumed to be your mother, there you lied. Alone, blind still yet writhing with vitality. You found nothing but entrails when squirming for a place to nurse, how cold must that embrace had been? How desperately obsessed was this huntress with her prey? It mattered not ... After all, it is written the moon had revealed to all wolves the truth in ages before: "only life can pay for life".
We like to think we honored your mother when we took you that day - that fur and those eyes, same as the corpse we saw that fateful day. Amongst the trophies from her hunt which would later dress your form, her same fur and eyes, you'll became nothing short of greatness, Lazarus."
🌿
Decorations and Background |
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Background
Autumn Fog
4 uses left
4 uses left
Decorations
Above
Below
None equipped!