Post by poofball on Apr 24, 2008 18:58:36 GMT -5
Name: I go by Vulcan, named after the greek god.
Age: Two winters and two moons.
Species:I am an Umbreon mix, Because even though I look like an Umbreon, my father was a Flareon. Which explains my odd appearance.
Appearence:
(Does it have to be a sprite?)
Anyway, as you can see, I'm not really that normal. Flames on my ears and tail burn even in the cold, or in the rain. Under the Fur of the rings on my forehead, shoulders, and thighs appears to be something like lava. As a result, my fur is a lot shorter than a normal umbreon's to let the heat out. And no, I've never gone swimming, nor do I plan to.
Personality: Often called "dull" and "a wet blanket" a long time ago, I tended to live my life on the more serious and careful side. I also had been known as wise beyond my years, and can solve most any problem with ease. However, even though I've kept some of those parts of my personality after I was "changed," Now, I prefer to live life on the edge. Mean and aggressive are better ways of describing me now, though I may not seem like it at the moment. I possess the skill of hiding my emotions very well, and today is a rare occasion. First impressions mean everything, I suppose.
History:
A scream was heard throughout the forest, a dreadful and painful sound. If one were to have been their that night, The scene you would have witnessed would be something you'd never want to remember again. A gang of pokemon, moonlight glinting off their red-stained fangs, surrounding a small family. An Umbreon, bloodied and injured from a long battle, and her mate in almost the same state. The flareon would gaurd his beloved for the cost of his life if he had to. Growling, he stepped backwards a bit, listening to the female's last short breaths. She looked up at him for one last time, and opened her mouth, but not a word came out. Her eyes clouded over, and she lay her head on the ground.
Howling in despair, he jumped at the intruders, Fangs and claws showed. His eyes were a flaming red, and almost deadly. Two of the intruders lunged as well, crashing into the snarling
mad creature. Much blood was shed that night, but I cannot tell you who had lost the battle, or which one was the survivor who grabbed the tiny cause of the disruption by the scruff, a tiny sleeping umbreon, and carried him off into the night to be turned. Maybe it was a father, giving up his own son to keep his life. Maybe it was a loyal follower, doing the bidding of a cruel master. That secret, I'm afraid, lies in the night winds.
Age: Two winters and two moons.
Species:I am an Umbreon mix, Because even though I look like an Umbreon, my father was a Flareon. Which explains my odd appearance.
Appearence:
(Does it have to be a sprite?)Anyway, as you can see, I'm not really that normal. Flames on my ears and tail burn even in the cold, or in the rain. Under the Fur of the rings on my forehead, shoulders, and thighs appears to be something like lava. As a result, my fur is a lot shorter than a normal umbreon's to let the heat out. And no, I've never gone swimming, nor do I plan to.
Personality: Often called "dull" and "a wet blanket" a long time ago, I tended to live my life on the more serious and careful side. I also had been known as wise beyond my years, and can solve most any problem with ease. However, even though I've kept some of those parts of my personality after I was "changed," Now, I prefer to live life on the edge. Mean and aggressive are better ways of describing me now, though I may not seem like it at the moment. I possess the skill of hiding my emotions very well, and today is a rare occasion. First impressions mean everything, I suppose.
History:
A scream was heard throughout the forest, a dreadful and painful sound. If one were to have been their that night, The scene you would have witnessed would be something you'd never want to remember again. A gang of pokemon, moonlight glinting off their red-stained fangs, surrounding a small family. An Umbreon, bloodied and injured from a long battle, and her mate in almost the same state. The flareon would gaurd his beloved for the cost of his life if he had to. Growling, he stepped backwards a bit, listening to the female's last short breaths. She looked up at him for one last time, and opened her mouth, but not a word came out. Her eyes clouded over, and she lay her head on the ground.
Howling in despair, he jumped at the intruders, Fangs and claws showed. His eyes were a flaming red, and almost deadly. Two of the intruders lunged as well, crashing into the snarling
mad creature. Much blood was shed that night, but I cannot tell you who had lost the battle, or which one was the survivor who grabbed the tiny cause of the disruption by the scruff, a tiny sleeping umbreon, and carried him off into the night to be turned. Maybe it was a father, giving up his own son to keep his life. Maybe it was a loyal follower, doing the bidding of a cruel master. That secret, I'm afraid, lies in the night winds.