ID #10018030
This wolf is currently nursing at least one puppy! She will wean her offspring in 2 rollovers!
This wolf has not rolled over today and will not be able to be traded or gifted until its next rollover.
This wolf has not rolled over today and will not be able to be traded or gifted until its next rollover.
| Currents | |
|---|---|
| Age | 4 years 5½ months (Adult) |
| Sex | Female |
| Energy |
|
| Mood |
|
| Hunger |
|
| HP |
|
| Personality | Sarcastic |
| Breeding Information | |
|---|---|
| Age in Rollovers | 107 |
| Pups Bred | 17 pups bred |
| Last Bred | 2024-10-08 06:12:33 |
| Fertility | Good |
| Heat Cycle | On Cooldown |
| Items Applied | None! |
| Pair Bond | |
| Looks | |
|---|---|
| Base | Fox (0.63%) |
| Base Genetics | Warm Medium III |
| Eyes | Brown |
| Skin | Black |
| Nose | Black |
| Claws | Light |
| Mutation | None |
| Secondary Mutation | None |
| Carrier Status | Unknown |
| Variant | Default |
| Markings
|
|
|---|---|
| Slot 1 | Wisp Inverted Opossum (48% : T3) |
| Slot 2 | Aspen Tamaskan Unders (37% : T7) |
| Slot 3 | None |
| Slot 4 | White Toes (63% : T1) |
| Slot 5 | None |
| Slot 6 | White Inverted Opossum (37% : T8) |
| Slot 7 | White Ear Tips (37% : T1) |
| Slot 8 | Silver Dilution (41% : T6) |
| Slot 9 | None |
| Slot 10 | None |
Biography
Lore
During a chill summer afternoon a litter was born, amongst this litter was Flora, the runt of the litter. Born to two revered members of the pack, she emerged as the smallest and weakest among her siblings, with fur that glimmered like burnt copper, reminiscent of an autumn fox. The pack was filled with rambunctious pups who played rough, yet in the shadows where the ferns grew thick, Flora learned to conceal herself with a cunning that would soon define her.
She could often be found among the vibrant blossoms that carpeted the edges of the Cove. Lush wildflowers swayed around her as she nestled beneath their petals, her delicate frame allowing her to hide expertly from the vibrant chaos of her littermates. Running through the dappled light of the forest, Flora found joy in games of hide and seek, darting into narrow spaces and twirling through the underbrush. Despite her small stature, her agility was unrivaled, and with each gleeful bark and playful growl, she became the reigning champion of their games.
But life among the pushy pups had its drawbacks. In moments of mischief, the larger wolves herded Flora, teasing her with jabs and nips. It was during these times that Momus, a darker-coated but larger wolf, stepped up. He was robust and bold, yet he possessed a gentleness that belied his size. When the other pups swarmed around Flora, he emerged like a shadow, Momus would bark and lunge, providing her with a much needed respite. Though the rambunctious pack might have bullied her, Flora always found solace in his unwavering presence.
As seasons passed, Flora blossomed into her role within the pack. She trained fiercely with the other adolescents, her agile body moving like wind through the forest. While some wolves focused on brute strength or fierce growls, Flora practiced grace and speed, mastering her instincts until she became the best chaser among the hunting groups. Much to her delight, she found herself often partnered with Momus, whose strength complemented her nimbleness perfectly, and together they could outmaneuver even the toughest prey.
One crisp autumn day, the pack gathered for a hunt near the border of the Great Meadow. The air was thick with the scents of maple and magnolia, a fragrance Flora loved more than any other. After days of training, today felt significant; she and Momus were charged with leading the pack towards the herds of deer that roamed the grassy plains. Heart pounding with excitement and apprehension, Flora took her place at the forefront.
As they approached the edge of the trees, Flora caught sight of a large doe grazing peacefully, its gentle movements a stark contrast to the undercurrent of thrill weaving through her veins. She turned to Momus, a silent exchange passing between them. The primal instinct of the pack urged her forward.
"Stay close," Momus murmured, his voice a hum among the fierce whispers, a comfort in the anticipation of the chase. And as the hunt began, Flora danced through the tall grass with a grace that belied her small size. She darted beneath the low-hanging branches, her body moving in harmony.
With the pack at her back, she chased the doe tirelessly, weaving in and out of the ferns, and she could feel Momus shadowing her, a guardian on the prowl. Together, they drove the doe into a trap, an abandoned thicket bordered by thornbushes. It was then that Flora's instincts kicked in; it's narrow width had always been her advantage, and now, it would prove invaluable.
Momus surged forward, turning to flank the doe from one side, while Flora slipped through the thicket, circling around, using her speed to ensure their prey had no way to escape. It was a perfect plan executed flawlessly, and at that moment, Flora felt invincible. The chase ended in a flurry of triumph, the pack closing in to celebrate their successful hunt, glory in their throats.
Later that night, as the pack feasted under the stars, Flora found herself by the moonlit stream, its waters sparkling like scattered diamonds. Momus joined her, brushing his flank against hers, offering her a gentle gaze. "You were magnificent today," he said, his voice low but full of admiration.
Flora, her heart warm with pride and affection, leaned against him, the soft scent of hickory and magnolia swirling between them. "I couldn't have done it without you."
As the moon bathed them in silver light, Flora realized that life had changed since that chill summer afternoon when she had been nothing more than a scruffy little pup. No longer merely the runt, she had become a fierce hunter, a respected member of the pack, and most importantly, the cherished mate of Momus, whose strength had always guided her. Together they would forge a path their journeys brightly colored, like the flowers of the Cove that had once been her refuge.
She could often be found among the vibrant blossoms that carpeted the edges of the Cove. Lush wildflowers swayed around her as she nestled beneath their petals, her delicate frame allowing her to hide expertly from the vibrant chaos of her littermates. Running through the dappled light of the forest, Flora found joy in games of hide and seek, darting into narrow spaces and twirling through the underbrush. Despite her small stature, her agility was unrivaled, and with each gleeful bark and playful growl, she became the reigning champion of their games.
But life among the pushy pups had its drawbacks. In moments of mischief, the larger wolves herded Flora, teasing her with jabs and nips. It was during these times that Momus, a darker-coated but larger wolf, stepped up. He was robust and bold, yet he possessed a gentleness that belied his size. When the other pups swarmed around Flora, he emerged like a shadow, Momus would bark and lunge, providing her with a much needed respite. Though the rambunctious pack might have bullied her, Flora always found solace in his unwavering presence.
As seasons passed, Flora blossomed into her role within the pack. She trained fiercely with the other adolescents, her agile body moving like wind through the forest. While some wolves focused on brute strength or fierce growls, Flora practiced grace and speed, mastering her instincts until she became the best chaser among the hunting groups. Much to her delight, she found herself often partnered with Momus, whose strength complemented her nimbleness perfectly, and together they could outmaneuver even the toughest prey.
One crisp autumn day, the pack gathered for a hunt near the border of the Great Meadow. The air was thick with the scents of maple and magnolia, a fragrance Flora loved more than any other. After days of training, today felt significant; she and Momus were charged with leading the pack towards the herds of deer that roamed the grassy plains. Heart pounding with excitement and apprehension, Flora took her place at the forefront.
As they approached the edge of the trees, Flora caught sight of a large doe grazing peacefully, its gentle movements a stark contrast to the undercurrent of thrill weaving through her veins. She turned to Momus, a silent exchange passing between them. The primal instinct of the pack urged her forward.
"Stay close," Momus murmured, his voice a hum among the fierce whispers, a comfort in the anticipation of the chase. And as the hunt began, Flora danced through the tall grass with a grace that belied her small size. She darted beneath the low-hanging branches, her body moving in harmony.
With the pack at her back, she chased the doe tirelessly, weaving in and out of the ferns, and she could feel Momus shadowing her, a guardian on the prowl. Together, they drove the doe into a trap, an abandoned thicket bordered by thornbushes. It was then that Flora's instincts kicked in; it's narrow width had always been her advantage, and now, it would prove invaluable.
Momus surged forward, turning to flank the doe from one side, while Flora slipped through the thicket, circling around, using her speed to ensure their prey had no way to escape. It was a perfect plan executed flawlessly, and at that moment, Flora felt invincible. The chase ended in a flurry of triumph, the pack closing in to celebrate their successful hunt, glory in their throats.
Later that night, as the pack feasted under the stars, Flora found herself by the moonlit stream, its waters sparkling like scattered diamonds. Momus joined her, brushing his flank against hers, offering her a gentle gaze. "You were magnificent today," he said, his voice low but full of admiration.
Flora, her heart warm with pride and affection, leaned against him, the soft scent of hickory and magnolia swirling between them. "I couldn't have done it without you."
As the moon bathed them in silver light, Flora realized that life had changed since that chill summer afternoon when she had been nothing more than a scruffy little pup. No longer merely the runt, she had become a fierce hunter, a respected member of the pack, and most importantly, the cherished mate of Momus, whose strength had always guided her. Together they would forge a path their journeys brightly colored, like the flowers of the Cove that had once been her refuge.
| Birth Stats | ||
|---|---|---|
| Strength | Speed | Agility |
| 142 | 128 | 120 |
| Wisdom | Smarts | Total |
| 74 | 110 | 574 |
| Birth Information | |
|---|---|
| Moon |  Waxing Crescent Moon |
| Season |  Summer |
| Biome | Tundra |
| Decorations and Background |
|---|
Background
Fertile Garden Mounds4 uses left
Decorations
Above
Daisy Crown [Red]4 uses left
Berry Bracelets [Red]4 uses left
Gold Poppy and Boar Tusks Necklace4 uses left
Frame of Roses [Orange]4 uses left
Berry Earrings [Orange]4 uses left
Berry Tailwrap [Orange]4 uses left
Falling Petals [Red]4 uses left
Berry Anklets [Red]4 uses left
Below
Flowering Gladiolus [Burgundy]4 uses left
Currently
Hunter
Hunter | Proficiency | |
|---|---|
| Hunting: Stalking | |
| Hunting: Chasing | |
| Hunting: Finishing | |
| Scouting | |
| Herbalism | |
| Pupsitting | |
| Statistic | Count |
|---|---|
| Total Number of Scouts | 0 |
| Total Number of Hunts | 358 |
| Successful Hunts | 281 |
| Total Number of Lessons Taught | 1 |
In current pack for 95 rollovers
Wolf created on 2024-05-12 06:42:40