Please read all the rules before joining, the minute you post I will assume you have read and agreed to all the rules.

Rules
1. Please be respectful and kind.
2. Please refrain from graphic gore and any sexualised themes (take these to private message or AWAY from the site.)
3. Please follow the basic roles of roleplay: no Powerplaying (having a character that is the fastest, bestest, most beautiful character in the world.) No Godmoding (taking control of another persons character.
4. If you are to engage in a fight with someone in this rp please ensure you are aware of the basic roleplaying fighting regulations; 3:1 method, realism, no auto hitting, attempt and double attempt methods. If you're un-aware of these please just avoid a fight all together or research.
5. This is a LITERATE roleplay. I will allow Semi - Literates to join, however please do not assume that joining this rp will grant you a free pass into the pack on other platforms such as Feral Heart.
6. No unusual powers / elements / eyes that change colours etc etc This is a realistic rp with ONE EXCEPTION: Your wolf can have any colour in it's coat / eyes. Other than this they're fully realistic wolves; no metal limbs, no mutated in an experiment wolves etc. I am happy for non wolves to join / coyotes / foxes etc.
7. You can have as many characters as you can roleplay just make sure their POV's are separated clearly so we know who you are roleplaying.
8. Use OOC when talking out of character eg brackets or something to highlight.
9. Please start your post with 'grumpy fish' to prove you have read the rules.
10. Have fun!
11. You are joining this rp NOT as a member of benevolent but as a loner / wolf from another pack.
12. I hate wolf speak. Just saying.


Setting
Season: Winter
Time of Day: Just after day break.
Place: Lethan Forest


Turik POV
Fiery reds, golds, oranges and emerald greens were unusual colours for this time of year. Yet there they were, plastered around him in a dizzying array of artistic talent. Nature was by far one of the supreme artists upon this earth. From their pine like leaves, shards of melted snow would tumble, not being able to cling onto the strange trees that surrounded this eccentric forest. Folding his two front dark coca limbs under his body for warmth, his viridian eyes would travel around the enclosed space. The verdure below was coated in a frosty layer, yet there were no fallen leaves anywhere around. The Lethan forests leaves never fell and never changed colour, never died, simply hibernated over the winter. At least that's what this astute brute thought as he studied them.
He was aware of other presences moving through the forest around him. To his far north were the standing stones of Lethan... just down the small escarpment and through the golden leaved trees with the pale silver bark. They stood alone from the forest, in a massive open clearing atop the apex of a mound of grassy tussocks.

To his right, if you sprinted far enough you would stumble out into the frozen beach, with logs and wreckage washed ashore from distant lands. The beach no longer had a warmth about it since summer died, instead the water lapped lamely at a sandy bay coated in frost bitten molecules that chilled the paws. To Turiks left rose the high mountains of Frost Peak, having climbed them himself he knew they took a good day or two to reach the point where breathing became difficult and the constant snow fall from the peaks rarely seemed to fall on the forest below.

He sat beside a massive climbable dead log, moss climbing over its bark and branches which jutted out at odd angels. The moss was even coated in a thin layer of white frost itself.
His tail slapped at the earth. Bored. Once again he found his well educated brain wandering for he had so little to think about here. Back home in the plains pups were being born. His family and yet it was his job to ensure that Lethan Forest remained safe for the packs return when the spring plants began to grow. He often welcomed the company of the odd Benevolent Member whom would stop by and aid in feeding the Unspeakable, whom despite being away from his pack for nearly 2 - 3 years still had to talk most predators out of their meal in order to survive. He was a terrible hunter. With a sigh that saw the moisture from his mouth swirl out into the frozen air around him, he'd lower his coca muzzle down towards the snow.


This is Turik