| LorneThreadlog | |||
| At A Glance | |||
| Species: | Gender: | OOC Name: | Skills and Abilities: |
| Pitbull/German Shepherd Mutt | Male | Charlie | This user has no items. (View All Items) |
| Alignment: | Favor: | Experience: | |
| Light | 0 | 150 exp | |
| Deeper Reading | |||
| What I Look Like: | |||
| Lorne is a large white dog, with fluffy fur, a fluffy tail, but with strong shoulders and thick paws, his eyes set deep in his head and his muzzle in a permanent frown. Though when he pants, or ‘smiles’, he looks incredibly joyful, even with his scarred features. His most prominent scar is a gash that tears up the right side of his upper lip, showing a bit of teeth underneath. Others litter his face and fur, though most are hidden under his thick white coat. He has no color, his skin a light pink and only one toe bean a light grey. His eyes are a silvery blue with brown flecks, with thick white lashes that protect him from the sun’s glare.
His claws, though sharp, are short, scraped on rock and stone to keep them from dragging on the floor as he walks. In the hot summers he has to worry about sunburn on his nose, so he stays inside unless it becomes necessary to go out, for he easily turns red and is sore for days after. In the winter his thick coat becomes even more so, though it starts being a downy texture, soft to the touch. He’s fantastic to nap on, if he’s in a good mood. |
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| Who I Am: | |||
| Lorne used to be nothing but a no-good stray. Thin, mangy, nearly skeletal in stature. He would snarl at any dog who came near, burdened with a past he spoke to no one about. That is… until he met Nana.
After weeks of getting used to touch and love, he joined the pack. Slowly, he got stronger, and slowly… he got bigger. Muscles lined his body, his ribs still visible due to the scarcity of food. But he was tough, and got in scuffles with higher ranking dogs in order to get him and his friend some better food and shelter. With her help, he faced down the pack Alpha. He, of course, fought vigorously, with snarls and claws and teeth rending. All he wanted was for his pups to be safe, and if it meant that he’d lead the pack, protect the pack, ensure that he, the strongest, could protect them… then so be it. He is scarred and battered, but he stands tall, his tail never wavering lower than his ankles at any time, his attitude towards the pack fierce and loyal, even though he may be gruff. His soft spot lies with the pups, who he often tutors and rough houses with under his mate’s supervision. Despite his rough start and his violent past, he fought hard to gain the pack’s respect, licking wounds clean and bringing back food when he could. His white fur was a symbol of greatness, of peace, of safety. And he won’t let anyone destroy what he’d fought so hard to build. |
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