AUDITION FOR REMAINING TERRITORIES

[tor.]

If you want a territory, then you must fill out this application and post here. As soon as we have a few contestants going for a certain land, Kei will read over every inch of your app. and decide who establishes the role best. You may use any character as long as they're adults.

Form:

Name: [Name of Wolf]
Age: [Age of wolf- over two]
Character: [What's his/her personality?]
Territory: [Sweeping Plain or Starkwater Quarry?]
Audition: [Cannot be a recycled post of a previous claim. You want to look and sound your best, don't you? Be fresh and come up with something original. I love originality.]


Audition Begins: April 20
Audition Ends: April 23

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[Chris]

Announcement Scrowe
Cycles 6 Years
Persona A very pensive female actually. She has that calm until provoked style, that if all is well, isn't overbearing nor obnoxious in a tyrant reign. She prefers obedient non breeding pack members, and will have a strict domination over that particular area. But she is a family wolf, and enjoys company. It takes a lot to stir her anger, and often she has witty comebacks for those more reluctantly submission canids. Her one and only quick frustration is an unwillingly joining outsider. One who just wishes to linger and cause havoc upon her home. She will not hesitate to kill a wolf that dares enter her land without consent nor reason. And she would risk her life for her pack.
Turf Starkwater Quarry
Simulation
By the prim cattail marsh she lingered. Carelessly lain to dry after a bit of a raving adventure in the water beds. A nasty taste hit her tongue as she spat out the murky water, silently chiding herself for knowing better. The water, a place Scrowe felt right at home in. Her plain rime gray coat still had that spark of knowledgeable beauty even though it was sodden and a tad smelly. It was where she loved to be. The safe cold waters. Tripping over smooth stones, catching crawdads with her teeth, careful of the pincers. All in a days work of having a water dog background. A peaceful smile tricked her lips into curling upwards and her feet started a slow shuffle to stand, tail uncurling and her whole body shaking free the access aqua, although sometimes she wished it were apart of her. The pure untainted world of the opposite land. If only she had acquired gills.

The hazardous gluer in her eye, made her shoot her head sideways, a low huffing breaking the crease in her lips. The always alert wolf was key. The alert wolf knew when danger was crawling, when peace was at hand, and when the others bite might reach skin. The alert wolf was a mere definition of Scrowe, she knew what she was doing, having plenty of experience in the area of lead wolf, or semi dominate pack mate. Her former home was one that kissed the sun hills and brought down a low blue moon every evening. Her pack worshiped that moon. Always admiring the odd shade and the vibrant expanse of its luminosity. All travelers that had gone through had marveled at this piece of apparent heaven. It was said by more than one, that it was "never visible back home". And for that, the moon had become more of an importance. Something no one had taken for granted, at least the more responsible and well liked members. At her home, Scrowe was a gentle and faithful beta. Always kind and considerate to her alphas, though sometimes she was put in her place by an opinionated mouth.

She still had a whimsical nature for a careful yet energetic lifestyle. Being the beta, even though a well accomplished one, she had never been experienced in breeding or for that matter having a mate. In attachment to a wolf she would of been tempted, so she gave in to her companion desires and reluctantly decided against any sort of liaison material. And that was the end, she had been in the limelight and helped her pack through, but with a strong male beta at her side for support and merely that, she made her break. Some saw it as betrayal and others as an act of bravery for going it alone, she never heard their opinions, but she knew. That in order to fulfill what she wanted to accomplish, she wanted to lead. And had too much respect for her former family to challenge the alphas. They were perfect for the spot, and she was to start from scratch. At least she hoped so.

That was only a day or two back. When she had found this beautiful land, full of mystery and blank canvas to paint her story on. She was so thick with a drunken stare of pure amusement, she had chosen this place. And this was were she would stay. Hopefully she wouldn't have to challenge another, a weakened alpha and a fast earned enemy was not what she wanted to start her new life out with. And as far as she was concerned, she was going to avoid it. Her eyes softened as the 'alert wolf' instinct in her settled, for the noise that had caused her distraction was a silly blackbird, apparently left behind from the migration. She felt slightly sad for this bird, and its lagging. That was how she felt at the moment, lagging. A wolf without a pack was hardly a wolf. The pack was the wolf and the wolf was the pack, without the members and the family surrounding all was fairly cold and quiet. It was a solemn life that she was living at the moment. But not in the slightest did she plan to remain here. Like this. A straddler of the boundaries. No. She was a leader in her heart, and she was ready to make it evident.

A late autumn sun was warming her fur till a crispy dry, she'd have to fix that later. But even so, her pale gray color had returned. It turned so dark when she was damp, she felt like another wolf. Hidden under her own coat, yet quietly disguised. Imaginative, that was how she felt. And the fall, her favorite time of the season. Perhaps to some it was time to mate, but to her, the world was dipped in warm shades of red, orange, and yellow. All dilated and brought out to show what was hidden behind the green covers of spring. It was that hidden world she lived in. All bright eyed and ready for adventure. Stopping short the smells of a vacant land brought her to a stop. This was it. It had to be it. This was the Starkwater Quarry. The warm scents of water wafting through her nostrils and she gazed forward, taking in all the splendors of this foreign yet homely land.

The endless green water brought near tears to her eyes. This was perfect. She cooed loudly, a deep and brazen call, uncharacteristically deep for a female, bellowing out and taking in all the fresh air along with the wolf less scents of a new turf. She smiled, her pale blue eyes blinking thoroughly to sustain herself from missing any moment of her first glances. The sun had peaked itself on the western hills and was starting to sink into the depths of the grassy bumps, or so they appeared to be from her vantage. Her eyes kissing the her lids she leaned her head back, a more formal call ligating from her lips. It was beautiful. It was serene, but more or so. It felt so safe and so calm.

"Welcome home Scrowe"

Post Count 1042
Beautiful and scrap written. I adore this.

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[atilthia']

Name: Patrick
Age: Four
Character:
He is that one guy at school that you almost feel bad for. He is not exactly ugly; but everything about him makes him seem like he is unhappy with himself. He resembles a lot of a huge humble giant, towering around with many ''scuse me's" and "Im sorries". He is almost so tall it seems like he cant even control himself. Most of his pure power does not depend on strength, but of the mind. He is an extremely intelligent being, with mind power soaring over most. His ideas are bold and random; but almost always work (to the crowds shock). Sometimes he is seen a little crazy with the huge imaginative ideas, that seem almost impossible, being tossed into the air of compromise and attack. Things and actions never done by a wolf at all seem almost was out of his league. Sometimes no one even listens and pushed away because they were a little too out of the box. As for his reactions around people; he seems amazingly shy. And according to himself; he does not believe himself to be a very good person at all. In fact; he is very self-conscious, always thinking he is ugly, stupid and disgusting. He is a very handsome and very smart fellow; almost too smart to think of such things. What ever goes on in his mind that makes him think this way; it just plays out in this way. So much doubt in both himself and his abilities. Besides constantly hating himself; he is an actually very sweet and kind character. He does not talk much; but even so his ideas get past and displayed quite easily with just a few words. He is very clear and simplistic when it comes to life; and he is not the one to aways greed for something more or lust for the feelings of another. Overall, he is just the kind of guy that you get along with very well. Very likable.
Territory: Sweeping Plain
Audition:

'So you're saying that they are all gone?' he asked quietly. The grim expression on his face was gloomy, stress written all over his features. Wrinkles far beyond his age and the rolling hills of ribs sticking from his sides. His jade green tiger looking eyes were held in a look of pure disbelief. But they were wide, and no matter how much he tried not to; warm salty tears formed in the deep grass green. 'Momma left Brother, Dadda too' his small sister said, her eyes so innocent it was enough to make him close his own opticals, forcing the tears back. He couldn't cry now; that would only discourage his poor siblings. Behind his sister, his younger brother was crying silently, his sobs so light it was hard to hear them. It was like he cried so much that his silent sniffles were almost forced upon himself. He hadn't cried in a very long time. He felt the urge to let himself go; to just cry. Maybe that would rush out all the stress building up in him. The anger needed to seep out of him before he truly hurt someone. He slowly took a step forward to his younger sister, lowering his long slender muzzle downward to lightly brush her cheek in hopes of comforting her. 'Don't worry Felle, do not worry' he said sweetly, his voice mocking his mother as he warmed her cold body as best he could. Ears pulled back to his head sincerely. As if sensing the warmth in the freezing cold, his brother slowly moved upward, his rump sliding from under him as he wandered closer with a series of low whines coming from his jaws. Jade green eyed urged open, vision blurred by the sad face of his brother. Their parents had deserted them. The thought was harsh on his disappointed mind. How could his lovely mother and brave father simply give up on the creatures they had so willingly brought into this world. It seem almost too unfair; as if everything was a dream. He was waiting for someone to reach over and pinch his skin; then he would wake up into a warm night of a nightmare and the fur of his parents and siblings brushing up against him, comforting him and chasing away the impossible dream. But relief never did come.

It seemed like his whole entire life had always been about someone else. For once he wished that he could do something that could please his own conscious. He was always a very modest person. He always opened the door before he himself walk in. He always made sure everyone around him was better then himself; and then perhaps he would allow himself to divide attention to his own wants. No. That had never happened in his life. He could of left his siblings in the bitter ugly cold; but he did not. Instead he had sacrificed his life in a pack to raise them, allow them to be better then he could ever be. For a full year of bitter winters and excruciating summers he watched them fill themselves with food as he starved quietly. Every time he even let himself eat, he nearly got sick at the fact that he allowed himself to eat when his brother and sister were back at the den, waiting, watching; hoping that their brother would come back with the only morsel of food they would probably get that day. Perhaps he was a little 'self-hating', but he truly did not see himself as a good person at all. He really and truly need to stop walking on his own tail, needed to drag himself from the pit of despair and attempt to find something in the world that could possibly help himself from complete chaos.

And he finally was.

Patrick moved silently, his long slender body moving along the vast hill sides and plains. The feeling of trees no longer above him was eerie, and the somewhat dismal colored grey sky suddenly appeared so large. The atmosphere was filled with the air of accomplishment, of opportunity. It was over whelming. The huge tall male wolf paused, green glass colored eyes flickered back and forth in the foggy light. The tall grass of the plain danced back and forth, the slight cold air pulling and pushing the light brown stalks gently as if caressing the plant with every so much care. In the distance, the sound of thunder rolling and crashing forebode the nearby storm. The breeze kicked up in a whoosh of silence, causing his brown shaded fur to wiggle back and forth as well, matching the tall grass that surrounded him. His tall stocky legs kept him up, his neck tickled by the wheat as it swayed. A single ears flicked back slowly on his skull in pure uncertainty, the air of loneliness clear in this place. He was the only one. The only one that was here. It surprised him that the world was not all rushing toward the unclaimed land, land that could offer one beast the opportunity of a life time. As if a huge blanket was covering the place, mist was rolling in and making vision close to nothing. Maybe that was why there was no others in this place. It was so eerie with the tree-less hills and foreboding with the thick fire-looking mist. The place was ultimately mysterious and cold; as if holding one huge secret behind the bitter white fog and silent swaying tall wheat grass.

Breathing from an open jaw, his warm breath mingled with the stark cold air around him to form a steam breathing appearance. He let loose a sharp sigh, his unsheathed claws ripping the dirt in neat little rows apprehensively. Without a second thought he urged his frozen body into the mist with a calm expression on his face, the best one he could conjor up. He was not one for one on one battle; not a creature that was just waiting for another wolf to appear from the mist with an air of challenge around him or her. He would rather avoid such brutal contact. But, as the mist swallowed him up, he realized how much he was willing to do so. Maybe he was willing to challenge the place. There was an air of missing about the Sweeping Plains, and he felt as if he was filling the gap with his presence. For yourself he thought sharply. This would be his own little accomplishment. For once in his life he was not helping someone else as he walked through the swirling cold mist; he was actually pleasing himself. He was here for himself, and for once in his life, he felt accomplished and perfect. For once in his life he felt as if he was not just some understood and overly humble creature. Maybe he could be powerful. Maybe he could be amazing. Maybe, Maybe, Maybe. Just a bunch of definite 'ifs' and 'perhaps'. He was almost determined to make it a clear and simple 'yes'.

"Yes!"

he screamed into the thick mist, as if chasing away an animal. He was surprised the words even flowed from his jaws, the word repeating over and over in his head so many times it felt the urge to slip from his mouth. He felt suddenly so foolish, but the word rolled off his tongue into the atmosphere with such relish that it made his senses pull an acrobatic back-flip. Ears cocked forward, swiveling to listen. He was almost so sure that he would hear someone yell back a 'No'. But as he stood there, the fog swallowing him up to a point he felt overwhelmed; he was given no answer but the silence. The fog suddenly took on a new appearance. It was no longer a misty air that was mixed with the rain and cold breeze. It felt almost alive. It was dangerous and beastly; and yet silent and awaiting for another. Waiting for someone like him? Perhaps. But the mist seemed to eat away his speech and bring the words into the depths of its swirling white fog and feed its urge to become what he wished as well; a person. The thought was odd indeed; but Patrick suddenly felt so connected to the mist around him. They both wished to be something more then a presence, something more then just a thing. They wanted to be known and praised. They wanted to be accomplished and acknowledged. They wanted to be on top.

So once again he found himself speaking, speaking to nothing? Perhaps. But he thought himself as speaking to the mist. Speaking to himself. "We are so similar; you and I. Maybe I am a bit crazy today. Maybe I am just a lonely creature dying to talk to anything but myself. But, i can tell you this my friend..."[/color] he said, pausing for a moment. A feeling of uncertainly came over him. But the mist longed, invisible eyes staring at him like some empty lonely pits of light. It was just a chemically conjured up fog; and yet he felt it hanging on his every world; listening. He must have gone crazy. "I will become something more then just anyone"[/color]. His words were slow, precise. Apprehensive; but almost far too certain for his liking. What was he doing?! He was talking to mist, talking to a low floating cloud. He was making a pact with the mist, making promises to a white fog! He shook his head back and forth, making a hole in the gloom. His body growing cold with the lack of movement he lowered his skull, legs slowly rising to dig gashes in the mist as he began to march forward and through the overcast gloom. The dense whiteness suddenly became so thin. Patrick did not know whether he had reached the end of the mist, or if his words chased away the murk and it was fleeing from his over-confident body frame. He was feeling so unsettled by his own egotistical air about himself; he had never felt so uppity in his life. It was like all his modesty had disappeared in a mere moment to allow himself a period of confidence.

He felt so good. And for once in his life he was doing something for himself, and not for someone else. His parents were gone. His siblings were missing. He had no friends. He truthfully did not have anything to loose; and he felt like he was finally backing way from the edge that he had been standing so close to lately. He felt so secure and safe on solid ground, and finally solid ground that would belong to him. Now he was waiting in the light murky fog. Waiting for another to dare challenge him. Yes, dare. He felt suddenly invincible. Amazing what a few words and a mist could do to you. He knew this over-confidence was just a prank brought on by pure adrenaline. But he would use it now to take control and truly become full and complete. He was no longer like the mist anymore. He was no longer a presence, no longer a force that floated around empty lands looking for something or someone to live on with. Now he was a steady and soon to be known force. Now he was finally a real and actual person, and not a shadow of his true being. He was the Lord, the Man, the King, the Alpha. "This is mine. All of this is mine. I dare the world to defy this. This is my land, my place, my home..."[/color]

'Don't worry my siblings. Do not worry' he said, clear and precise as he fought back tears. Jade green eyes filled with the look of fulfillment and the promise that was about to cross his lips. 'Bello, my brother, Felle, my sister; I will always be here for you. I will always take care of you...' he said, his promise and pact flowing off his tongue with all sincerity. His younger siblings stared up at him, hope filling their wide innocent eyes. He smiled at them, his older and oddly tall body towering over them with a curve to his jaws that also caused hopelessness to disappear all together. 'Forget about Mother and Father. I will be your guardian now my siblings. Do not worry....'

OOC:
Note: One of my longest posts ever. I had a burst of muse for my Pat. xD
2078 WORDS

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[a n y u]

name: Rostyn
age: four
character: Rostyn is, to say the least, laid back and seemingly uncaring most of the time. On the outside he looks like the kind of wolf who would sleep through an atomic bomb, at least on first impressions. But other times he seems like the kind of wolf who might try to cleverly joke his way through every kind of situation. He might even appear to be predictable, but that's exactly what he wants you to think. As soon as you think you have his personality pinned down he changes the rules and plays some strange move that confuses you all over again. One of his favorite sayings happens to be, "What good is a predictable wolf?" They make life boring, according to him. He makes things interesting. Obviously, he isn't the kind of wolf you might be inclined to take seriously, unless you know him very, very well. Isn't it a shame that he doesn't do too well in relationships? But that probably isn't a surprise.

Rostyn's the wolf who would ignore you when he felt like it, even if you had the most exciting news in the world. I dare you to walk up to him and say, "Hey Rostyn, guess what? You just became ruler of the world!" He would probably open one eye, if he was napping, look at you, mutter something unintelligible, and they go back to sleep. Honestly, he would want to become ruler of the world, so this should be the expected reaction to that statement, at least if you know him well enough to realize that. It may seem that he just doesn't care or that he might even be lazy, but that isn't the case at all. You see, Rostyn has developed excellent control over his emotions and reactions. If he wants to react in a certain way to a certain situation then you know that he will. He learned to exercise this kind of control at a young age, though the reason for that is unknown to even him. He was always a laid-back, calm pup, so perhaps that was where the control originated. He definitely wasn't normal, not in the least. He wasn't the hyperactive pup who always ran around with the other pups in the pack. He was a loner who kept to himself. Now he doesn't isolate himself as much, and even finds himself seeking the company of others. He may not seem mature at times, but he knows how to take control of a situation and guide others through them. His calm demeanor gives him a cool head, even in the most stressful situations, an asset to any wolf who seeks leadership. He doesn't so much seek leadership, as some do, but he is willing to take the chance if the opportunity arises. He would make a good leader, for all that he has convinced himself that he never would.
territory: Sweeping Plain
audition:
Shadows danced in the light of a full moon. For once, the sky was clear and the moon and stars lit the night. Having found that it rained quite often in mid-to-late autumn, Rostyn was taking this chance to relax in the soft glow of the moon. It was a little cool, since winter was well on it's way, but his thick fur coat offered him enough protection that he was comfortable. It was dark, but the light of the moon reflecting off of the water managed to give him a good view of the land. It glanced off of his fur too, making him clearly visible to anyone for miles around. As an owl soared overhead Rostyn shook out his fur and loped forward.

Thick patches of cattails rose up from the water, blocking his path. Rather than disturb the few creatures that might be taking shelter there at this time of night, the white wolf skirted around the water plants. Doing this forced him to wade through the shallows of a small expanse of water, but that didn't seem to bother him. In fact, as he padded through the little pond he felt a sudden rush of adrenaline flow through his body and he leaped into a swift-footed run that took him flying across the rest of the marshy water. It wasn't long before he was soaked, splashing himself with pond water as he raced through the water, dodging cattails and clumps of reeds whenever they appeared. His tail streamed out behind him, sometimes falling low enough to drag along the surface of the pond. It, too, was quickly soaked. And, all too soon, he began to slow, splashing to a stop in the middle of a completely different pond. Now thoroughly soaked, he began to feel the cold that he hadn't noticed before. With a frustrated sigh, Rostyn shook his fur free of the excess water and began to slowly lope away, in search of dry ground where he might take the time to chase away the cold that had soaked into his fur with the water.

In the past week or so he had grown to love this land. It wasn't that it reminded him of places that he had seen or lived in. Anything that reminded him of his childhood would act as a repellent, not an attractor. No. It was the colorful landscape, the beautiful scenery, and the feel of the land that made him want to stay here. He loved how the water and the land seemed to mesh together so perfectly. The multicolored grasses that adorned any dry land there was and the thick, lush, green reeds and cattails that grew in and around the many beautiful, crystalline green pools of water. What more could a wolf want in terms of scenery? And there was pleny of prey to go around. In the spring and summer times this place would be sure to attract some kind of large game animal, like moose. And then there were the fish that were here, along with other marine creatures that could be hunted. This place could easily sustain more than one wolf if it needed to, though why his thoughts always returned to that fact was a mystery to him. It wasn't as if he was looking for a place to live permanently. Though, maybe he was, but couldn't quite admit that to himself yet.

A shadow blocked out the light of the moon for a moment, making Rostyn glance upwards toward the sky. A small, lone cloud hovered around the glowing white orb that was the moon. He growled, angry that the rain-carrying little pest was blocking the light that made this land so beautiful at night. A breeze rushed across the open land, as if in response to the wolf's complaint, and moved the cloud away from the moon. A joyous bark followed the wind, thanking it for it's small service. And before he knew what he was really doing, Rostyn was back on his paws and chasing after the swift-moving cloud that now drifted along the sky, as if he were trying to drive it away from these beautiful lands. They had enough water without the rain, and clouds blocked his view of the sky. They had to go. Only when he came to the very edges of the open expanse of the land did he come to a stop, watching as the cloud continued to drift away.

His fun over, the white wolf turned and faced the interior of the land again, then stretched his thin, muscular legs. They were stiff from the cold, but he still loped forward when he was finished stretching. Having explored the entire area already, he knew what he was looking for. It wasn't long before his eyes spied a lone tree standing beside a pool of water. The land beneath it was the driest there was, and that was the only reason that explained the growth of the tree in an area that did not always support such lare plants very well. When he was beneah the protective leaves, Rostyn lay down on the dry dirt. His fur had been blown dry by the wind, so he was confortable enough to lay down now. The cold was still a small problem, but before long he would feel relatively warm again.

The tree that now sheltered him from the cold wind was young, but large. Even though it was not as old as those trees in the forest beyond, it still had a primordial air about it. It's branches sheltered a large area. In the summer it would provide shade from the hot rays of the sun. In the winter it would be nothing more than a skeleton. Though it was autumn, it hadn't shed too many of its leaves yet, though it was well on it's way now that the season was in full swing. There were no birds nesting in it as there would be when spring arrived, so it seem lonely. Rostyn liked the feeling of seclusion it created, however. He liked the lack of noise; the quiet that permeated the entire land when it was this late at night. That was why he often came out at this time. It was quiet and peaceful and allowed him to calm his nerves. He had done this as a young pup as well.

It was hard to believe that his pup days were so far behind him. Three years had passed since the death of Talyn and he was still uncertain about his leadership skills. He had always been her guide and leader. It was hard to believe that, even with his careful orders, she had been killed while hunting. If she had just followed the plan like they had agreed they would then she would be here with him, where she belonged. As memories of his puphood overtook him a sigh passed through his parted lips. There was nothing he could do to changed the past; Talyn was gone and nothing he could do would ever bring him back. But there was one thing that he could do to make himself feel better. He knew it was what she would have urged him to do, where she still with him.

He had been dying to reach this conclusion for the past few months, knowing what he wanted but constantly unsure of himself. It was hard to believe that he had found the answer only by remebering a few pieces of his past. Suddenly he felt more confident and he held himself higher. His tail didn't droop as much and he held his head up to survey the world around him. He had been struggling to make this decision for the last week, though he knew what he wanted, at least in his heart. As if to finalize the choice he had made, the white wolf lifted his head higher than he ever had before and sang to the world. The howl was filled with emotion; sadness from his sister's death, joy that he had reached a decision, uncertainty in his abilities as a leader, and confidence that he would find a way to make things work.

"I will take this land as mine," he announced as his song faded into the night. "This will be my home, and a home to any who wish to join me here. And I will protect it with all of my strength and perserverance." His normally soft and musical voice had now sounded loud and deep, echoing over a small area. He stepped out from under the primordial tree and into the moonlight once more. The shadow his body cast refelected his body perfectly. For once he looked strong and majestic, filled with a confidence that he hadn't had before. He knew that, if he really put his mind to this, he would accomplish whatever he wanted. And he wanted to rule over this land. Starkwater Quarry was to be his new home.

[ooc]
word count: 1527
comments: Not my longest post, but definately one of them. And definately my longest claiming post.