"When I was a child, I had a fear of spiders. I was told they felt no emotion. That their hearts never beat. But I know the truth. At the moment of the kill, they are never more alive."

R A G N A R

Age
5 Years Old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Heterosexual, and believes everybody should be.

Breed
Grey Wolf [50%] x Swedish Elkhound [25%] x Irish Wolfhound [25%]

Rank & Affiliation
Jarl of the Blackback Guard.

Accessories
A thick, leather hide that circles tightly around his neck and is decorated with hawk feathers and small, polished marble stone.

Appearance
Ragnar is a very imposing beast who's wolfish traits are quite clear and therefore betray much of his heritage. The majority of his size is in his height, for his limbs are long and lean and end in large, heavy black-clawed feet. His shoulders are narrow but tend to hunch up over him and appear broad and squared, with a straight back and a thick, bushy tail. His ears are small and mounted upon his head like the horns of a devil, pointed and always alert, while his eyes are small and narrow and lined with rich black skin. His coat is a disheveled mess and ruggedly lengthens along his shoulders, neck, tail and stomach. He is primarily black and brown, with light touches of wolf-grey and beige. One eye is a rich ochre-amber colour, while the other is blown out entirely and is now replaced with an ugly, milky film which has rendered him sightless out of that eye. His gait is less of a strut and more of a prowl; head lowered, body streamlined and rhythmic like that of a serpent's.

Personality
Ragnar has been guided and moulded into the footsteps of the tyrannical leader before him, his late father Ragnar The First. Though his father held a more organized crew, the sense of dictatorship the pack has always contained has not dwindled. He has been raised to believe in very strict gender roles; males are for war and protection, females are for breeding and providing. His beliefs are carved so irreversibly in his brain it's impossible to convince him otherwise, and he will not tolerate an attempt to be told otherwise. Being trained as a full-fledged berserker well before his reign, he almost always resorts to violence to solve even the most simple of complications, the end result of each quarrel far from pretty. He's ruthless and determined to leave his victim a scar or two to remember him by, often mauling a corpse well after death has taken place as a tactic of intimidation, or even just as a show for those watching to stroke his ego a bit more. It's difficult to say if the Jarl is even capable of love, in a romantic sense or something much more family-orientated, considering any relationship he's established has been purely out of a lust-based desire to bare children.

Backstory
In his youth, Ragnar was eager and restless. He had little interest in education outside of learning how to injure and subdue enemies; but he had a much gentler soul and could've easily been moulded into someone more humble and friendly. When he was just under a year old, a Highvalley patrol raided their land with intent of killing the nomads. A bloodhound was the dog to wrap his jaws around his father's throat and rob him of his life. The event shaped his restless behaviour into something much more menacing and rogue, and he does not intend on treating Highvalley Court dogs with mercy. The majority of pure-blooded dogs around him, even if they are from within his own pack, are prone to having to face his bias of purebreds. He regards wolf blood very highly, though when it comes to his own relatives, it's safe to say he doesn't care much for what he's produced for offspring.

Kin
Ragnar the First (father, deceased)
I wish to uphold your legacy to the fullest. I will not let you down.

Thyra (mother, deceased)
Your wolf blood is the only thing I am grateful for. I am pleased you lie beneath the dirt.

Rahla (daughter, played by nyanunix)
A disappointing birth indeed. You were my last hope for a rightful heir, and I do not see it within you.

Rielle (daughter, played by west)
When I look at you I see your mother, and that causes me anger. Another disappointment. You'll fair as nothing more than a huntress.

Revejo (oldest son, played by potatolord)
You are formidable and strong but your guts are weak. I have yet to make a true warrior out of you, my son.

Themesong
Fever Ray - If I Had A Heart




"I'll take my bow, I won't make a sound."
G U N T H A R R

Age
3 Years, 6 Months Old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Bisexual | Biromantic.

Breed
Eurasian Wolf [25%] x American Alsatian [50%] x Leonberger [25%]

Rank & Affiliation
Berserker of the Blackback Guard

Accessories
A necklace of dog claws and teeth hang from his neck, a thin part of the chain going down his neck and between his shoulders and circling behind his front legs like a harness. The skull of a vulture hangs from his chest, as well as grey feathers.

Appearance
A mammoth of a dog, Guntharr is an imposing brute who has literally been bred throughout the years to be a powerhouse of a berserker. He stands at about 30 inches tall and weighs 130 pounds, with a broad, muscular body and huge bear-like feet. His coat is thick and wolfish in it's texture and colouration, mostly an ashy beige-grey and darkening along his back, neck, face and ears to almost completely black. His ears are peculiar, cropped sharply on an angle so they sit close to his skull, but the tallest piece of them end in a very sharp point. His eyes are a clear colour of yellow-sage, contrasting sharply against the neutral shades of his coat. His most damaging asset is his strong set of jaws and the long curved fangs that sit within them. A combination of his overbearing weight and the weapons he comes equipped with proves him to be a fatal opponent, and so most should avoid being pinned by him. However, the male obviously is no deer when it comes to agility and speed, and quickly falters when it comes to precision tactics.

Personality
War-like and brooding, Guntharr doesn't appear like someone you'd want to have an encounter with from behind enemy lines. He has a standoffish demeanour and quite an unfriendly resting-face, but looks are surely not what they seem with this dog. He is incredibly family orientated and cares for those he shares a pack with, notably selfless and protective if it means benefiting the dogs he shares a home with. A true family structure isn't something he's familiar with, which could explain his desire to provide for his makeshift one. He's often seen trying to join the Scavengers in their hunting expeditions, although they're both keenly aware he won't be of much help in the pursuit of prey, he's always eager to convince them he'll make short work of the killing blow. He harbours concern for Ragnar's leadership, as he does not share his views on a multitude of subjects, but he also knows better than to confront the aggressive wolfdog and provoke conflict between them. A look at Guntharr from the other side of enemy lines is something primal and, to most, quite terrifying. Huge, gaping jaws snarling threats of death and huge hooked claws ripping up the earth beneath where he stands is often a display most opponents get a glimpse of, and he certainly doesn't have the voice of a lady. He is vicious and capable of great damage once he can get someone subdued, but even Blackback's should pay great attention to the brute when he's in his fury. Adrenaline and the the thrill of the fight can blind him at times, making him susceptible to unknowingly snapping his jaws in a friend's way.

Backstory
Guntharr was born in a pack that lived high in the mountains and away from any other sort of civilization. To avoid painful frostbite, all dogs had their ears and occasionally tails docked off. Living so high in the mountains, food source was far from plentiful and most dogs had to go several days without even a thought of food. It was at this time that the Blackback's leader at the time, Ragnar the First, saw opportunity to expand his clan with the promise of prey- the only price was that the alpha of the mountain pack had to give up his leadership. He agreed, but upon reaching Blackback lands the alpha was disrespectful and commanding while his dogs' fed on the Blackback's collection of deer and quail, causing Jarl Ragnar to react in a way not uncommon amongst viking clans. He killed the alpha and allowed his berserkers to make short work of the rest of the males, only allowing the females and pups to live. Guntharr was one of the pups taken hostage and has grown up a Blackback since that day, unsure of how to feel about his history.

Themesong
Boy Epic - Scars




"I'm learning all your tricks, I can hurt you from inside."
H A R L O W

Age
3 Years Old.

Gender
Female.

Orientation
Demisexual | Demiromantic.

Breed
European Wolf [15%] x Weimaraner [85%]

Rank & Affiliation
Prisoner/Gatherer of Highvalley

Accessories
Dull bluejay feathers hang from a tight, faded black leather choker that sits high upon her neck.

Appearance
Extremely sleek and svelte in her appearance, Harlow holds a type of regal impression to her that is rarely achieved as a rugged Blackback dog. Her dog features heavily outweigh any signs of wolf aside from the sharpness of her eyes and overall wild prowess. Her coat is short and brisk, lengthening only slightly along her drooped ears and around her underbelly. She has a broad, strong chest and a firm back, overall boasting a rather sturdy structure, with a sharply tucked waist and large dark grey nose. Her coat is a solid silver-grey colouration, while her eyes are an interesting concoction of blue-grey and lighten to an almost amber-grey right around her pupil. A few years of mistreatment amongst her birth clan has left her a bit battered, sporting a few scars along the curve of her rump and down the back of her legs.

Personality
Independent and stubborn, Harlow can be a difficult dog to try to persuade into doing anything she doesn't want to do. She's very self-reliant and doesn't want to ask for help or guidance; in her mind, doing so will only leave her in someone else's debt. Her upbringing amongst vikings makes her quick to bare her teeth and speak rather darkly, but she does not have the natural cruelty most of her family back home possess. Her experiences have left her a bit of a dreamer, although in the flesh she seems very practical and pessimistic, she longs for a more pristine life and has a very clear idea of how a perfect world should function. Most of her fears and insecurities shape the majority of her decisions and desires, and most importantly, the way she perceives the world around her today. She does not trust those who step her way; everything and everyone seemingly is out to get her. In opportune moments, Harlow can be seen as rather desperate, especially when she begins to feel as though she's losing control.

Backstory
Harlow was born in the Blackback Guard to parents she didn't spend much time with. Her father was a berserker who was slaughtered shortly after her birth, while her mother lost interest in her litter after her mate's death and turned her back on them entirely once they were old enough to be weaned off of milk. She was trained as a scavenger but was soon ordered by Ragnar to become the berserker's breeding dog- something she was far from cooperative about. When first travelling around Highvalley land, Harlow was dragged off into the woods by a large male, putting up enough of a fight to avoid being subdued but also distracting unwanted attention. A party of Highvalley knights was soon upon them and took them in as prisoners, shocked but sickened at the potential sight they saw in front of them; wolfdogs. Unfortunately, or fortunately for her, Harlow's male companion was killed after attempting an attack on some of the guards, but she was allowed to live. This was partially due to her being female, her quiet demeanour, and likely the general fact she didn't appear as wolfish and therefore as threatening as the male she was captured with. She remained behind bars and heavily guarded for several months before the King decided to allow her to serve under him as a huntress. Since then, she's stayed close to Highvalley and does not stray far from those she patrols with; she knows the Highvalley dogs are watching her closely, but she has no desire to turn on them.

Kin
Averic (father, deceased)
Hanna (mother, estranged)
Agmund (friend, unknown)

Themesong
Digital Daggers - The Devil Within


"Something's hiding in the dark lurking in between the rocks, whispers in my ear,
I turn around,
but no one's there"
O L E A N D E R

Age
4 Years Old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Pansexual | Homoromantic.

Breed
Borzoi [50%] x Belgian Groenendael [50%]

Rank & Affiliation
Knight of Highvalley

Accessories
Dried out strands of oleander branches weaved in a braided fashion around his neck to form a collar. Dead, whitened flowers still peak out from the woven strands, and a thick mixture of white clay is smeared beneath either of his eyes in a war paint fashion.

Appearance
With long, slender legs that are fitted with dainty paws and support a rather lithe frame, it's surprising when Oleander reveals his role in society. He appears much better suited as a hunter, for he's extremely swift and agile and could likely outrun a fox in the stamina department. His skull is dome-shaped but lengthens out significantly, sporting a very long muzzle that is quite thin and narrow. He has a large, rounded black nose and almond shaped eyes. His irises are a light honey gold and his mid-length, feathered coat is entirely burnished black. He's rather sharp-looking, but doesn't appear too concerned with pursuing a partner.

Personality
Oleander is friendly and eager to participate in Highvalley events. He sees value in establishing bonds and trust within pack members and will go out of his way to introduce himself to those he's unfamiliar with. He's quite intuitive and relies heavily on his own instincts, and while most of the time it doesn't cause him any issues, he can be a bit too trusting at times and therefore vulnerable to being taken advantage of. With that being said, trust is a virtue and once it's been stepped on it's unlikely you'll get it back with Oleander. He holds grudges like no other and is incredibly bitter and spiteful to those who double cross him. While having a good heart and great trust in his religion, there's a reason he's ended up as a Knight rather than a Gatherer. With his hound nose and love of tracking, it's unlikely he'll lose a trail once he's onto one, and he's rather merciless once he's found you at the other end. Oleander has a sharp pair of teeth, and an even sharper sense of justice; if he assumes you're treading wrongfully, he isn't opposed to causing some damage.

Backstory
Oleander was born in a rather large litter. He had about 8 other brothers and sisters, an impressive family size, but not everyone was bound to survive. Oleander's father, unbeknownst to Kingdom officials, was the former High Priest and therefore barred from taking a mate and baring children. Once this became public knowledge, his father was executed at the hands of the King alongside the rest of his sisters; females born illegally were considered terribly impure and unsuitable mates. At the time Highvalley had a wolf named Aethelstan in their possession as a prisoner, one who managed to overhear Oleander's mother speaking to a trusted companion right outside his cell and saw an opportunity to reveal important information to the King himself in exchange for freedom. Once free from Highvalley land, the rest of Oleander's brothers and his mother were found murdered by an unknown canine, though Oleander still believes it was by Aethelstan and his lackey's as a sort of taunt. He still believes the wolf lingers out there, watching and waiting for Oleander so he can take his life too.

Themesong
Eivør - Into The Mist


I V A R
"The Nightcrawler"

Age
1 Year, 10 Months Old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Asexual | Aromantic.

Breed
Grey Wolf [35%] x Great Dane [65%]

Rank & Affiliation
Youngblood of Blackback Guard.

Accessories
An extremely tight choker made of sharp bramble thickets and dried thorns. It's stained crimson and reeks of blood. Worn entirely for intimidation and isn't practical; it's constantly tearing at his skin. Huge black crow feathers are tied to him all over his body, hiding some of the worst of his scarring.

Appearance
An intriguing concoction of gangly and sturdy, Ivar possesses an impressive amount of height due to long limbs and an overall large skeleton. He has a tucked waist and thin forearms, but a heavily muscled broad chest, wide ribcage and strong hind legs. His facial structure is rather boxy and quite reminiscent of his dane heritage, but his ears are erect and thicker and quite similar to that of a wolf. He is short-coated and very sleek, something that has not done him any favours. He isn't shielded from cold winds nor rain, and wounds inflicted upon him are hard to miss. In fact, the young dog is absolutely covered in a mess of ugly, gnarled wounds that have either horribly healed or are still in the process of doing so. His face suffers the worst; a huge, flesh-coloured scar breaks up a huge portion of his snout and sits directly between his eyes. His fur, or at least what is visible, is mostly a sable beige colour flicked with black and wolf-grey, with a predominantly black muzzle. His eyes are a very light clear brown colour.

Personality
Unfriendly and extremely defensive, Ivar doesn't seem to be very thick-skinned and has a tendency to take everything to heart. Any constructive criticism or advice is shrewdly ignored or otherwise met with pure, aggressive outrage and it isn't rare for him to start a fight over something very miniscule or insignificant. Any sort of emotion that doesn't demonstrate power or inspire fear in others isn't worth demonstrating in his opinion, so otherwise he's rather deadpan and statue-esque. When he isn't snapping his teeth in someone's face, Ivar is terribly detached and oddly socially awkward. He doesn't appear to even know how to conduct conversation and large groups make him skittish and agitated. He is far from fearless and it's clear the wolfdog suffers from a bit of emotional damage.

Backstory
Ivar could be considered an experiment, a sick little test in Ragnar's eyes. Born to Berserker parents, he was plucked promptly after weaning and began intense and isolated training away from the rest of the youth of the pack. The majority of his training was done under the darkness of night, where he has been taught to be a silent, observant but malicious slayer. Since Ragnar's father's death, the Jarl himself began to feel a shift within the pack and a lack of control over his dogs; many appeared to be softening up and he was losing his precious tyrants. Grooming Ivar into a cold, heartless and entirely unfeeling slaughterhouse is simply a project to ensure he has at least a handful of Berserkers conditioned to do nothing but serve and kill.

Themesong
Missio - Twisted

I'm assuming since you know me and are aware of what I'm capable of you won't mind me adding six characters from the start. If that isn't the case I'll be glad to remove the extras or leave them inactive until I've proven myself.



"Fear is a device.
So quiet and precise.
It’s not what I allow
Not in my world now."

Name
Alistair.

Age
5 years old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Gay.

Due to the nature of Highvalley's strict religious values/rules this is a guarded secret. Regardless, most of the kingdom are likely suspicious he is uninterested in females. He has never taken a wife and even the most beautiful ladies vying for his attention are ignored and rejected.

Breed
Borzoi.

Rank & Affiliation
Highvalley | Lord King.

Accessories
A leather collar and leg braces studded with rare gemstones. Eagle, owl and falcon feathers are woven into the long fur around his neck. During times of war he will wear braces with sharp blades attached on the front legs.

Appearance
As with most of his breed Alistar strikes an intimidating, yet elegant figure, reaching a total of 32 inches at the shoulder and weighing an even 100 pounds. He has the signature Borzoi face; a narrow, slightly domed head with a barely noticeable stop and a lengthy muzzle. His dark copper colored eyes have a slight slant to them and his ears are small, always laid back against his skull. Alistar's tail is low-set and curves at the end, covered in long, wispy fur. His medium-length wavy coat is a rich golden tinted brown brindled by black stripes save for his white paws. His chest is deep and his front legs are long and straight. The spine is arched, creating an overall flexible frame and Alistair's svelte, streamlined build makes him a speedy runner, though he still packs on more lean muscle than a racing hound such as a Whippet or Greyhound.

Personality
Haughty and authoritative, Alistar is far from being easy to deal with. Viewed as ice cold and humorless by his court, one might wonder if it is respect or fear that keeps them in line. He is a strict hound who expects all of his orders to be obeyed, demanding absolute loyalty from his followers. Alistar is not entirely unkind to his own, but crimes will be punished accordingly and he is a stickler for rules.

Despite his cold exterior, he does have compassion for most creatures. At his core he is a dog now ruled by his own fears and trauma, ignoring his true emotions and replacing them with something hard and unforgiving. He was always a tad arrogant and superior minded in his youth, but there was no question his intentions were pure. He wished for little more than safety for all dogs of the land, striving for peace and prosperity.

In the present Alistar cares only for those who call Highvalley Court home, or so many assume. He appears to have an intense hatred of vikings, mocking them and looking upon any he should meet with scorn. Yet all the same, one might notice he is not overly fond of unnecessary gore and will discipline anyone in his court found to have abducted or harmed any outsider, regardless of affiliation, without just cause.

He is more than a little egotistical, spending hours a day tending to his appearance simply for his own satisfaction. His vanity should not be mistaken for prissiness, he is not afraid to get dirty and if moved to violence he can prove quite monstrous. His patience only stretches so far, and it's better to simply do as he says and stay in his good graces unless you want a good telling off. His tongue is just as sharp as his teeth and he's not afraid to use either if pushed.

Backstory
His puphood was rushed and he wasn't allowed much time to actually enjoy his youth, much pressure and expectation placed upon his shoulders by his father. Erik was never warm or fatherly, but it was clear he was fond of his son despite the secret of his birth and the way he treated him. Alistair was trained for war at an early age, often accompanying his father on hunts or into battle far too young. Erik's training was heartless, even to Alistair's stepmother who resented his existence, the pup pushed to commit violence most would consider unspeakable. Somehow he still grew into a thoughtful, compassionate adolescent. He frequently argued with his father about how he chose to rule their kingdom, but his concerns were often dismissed. In the end the prince could do nothing to change his father's ways.

Vikings had been sighted in the area upon the evening of Alistair's third birthday. Erik, eager for the taste of wolf blood on his tongue, sought them out. The outsiders proved stronger and more numerous than expected and they were overwhelmed by their forces, the knights who accompanied them all slaughtered. It was in that moment Alistair had an awful idea, perhaps proving himself his father's son. They managed to escape, wounded yet alive, but only Alistair returned to the fortress, claiming the wolfdogs had ended his father. No dog thought to look deeper or question him, more likely relieved than sorrowful of the cruel king's passing. Alistair has ruled the kingdom for two years, and though not needlessly cruel he still proves quite strict, hardened by years of his father's presence and tutelage.

Kin
Trigger warning; implied forced breeding mention. Not detailed.*

Erik • Father • Deceased.
[Alistair is a teddy bear compared to his father. Erik was a strict canine with harsh laws and a taste for violence. His never ending feud with wolves and other wild canines saw his life ended by the fangs of a viking (or so Alistair claims) and his son made king. Many still expect Alistair to carry on the cruel traditions of their former king and hold a strong disliking for him.]

Annika • Stepmother • OPEN.
[Every dog of the kingdom believed Annika to be Alistair's true mother, but this was a carefully concealed ruse. Annika is barren and Erik turned to other females to birth his offspring and heir. Occasionally even those unwilling to carry his pups. Their relationship is rather strained as a result. Alistair believed her to be his birth mother growing up and never understood her distaste for him. After his father's death she revealed the truth and he is still coping with the fact viking blood runs through his veins and his birth mother's life was ended brutally after months of torture and terror.]

Elsa • Birth Mother • Deceased.
[A viking scavenger captured during an attempted raid. He never had the chance to know her, snatched from her upon his birth and given to a wet nurse. She was executed before he ever had the chance to open his eyes.]

Theme Song
Firewall - Les Friction.

Other
As I'm sure you well know, I'll always love Ryker and North.

I totally misunderstood this rule rip. Still leaving it. I have too many favs from my own characters to pick one anyway.

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"You know that life ain't over yet,
I'm here for you so don't forget, you can count on me 'cause I will carry you 'till you carry on."

Name
Alexandra.

Age
3 years, 10 months old.

Gender
Female.

Orientation
Bisexual | Biromantic.

Heavy preference for other females.

Rank & Affiliation
High Valley Court | Knight.

Breed
Afghan Shepherd Dog.

Accessories
Thick leather color studded with dog teeth, because I'm that creative.

Appearance
A giant of a dog with a heavily scarred, cream colored coat. Reaching 33 inches at the shoulder and weighing over 170 pounds, Alexandra is a force to be reckoned with. Her pelt is short, but includes a thick, wooly undercoat that protects her from the elements. Her body is thick-set and heavy boned, the shape of her skull almost considered bear-like with a wide head and broad muzzle. Her ears are cropped down to their bases and her tail is docked mid-length, giving it a rather stubby appearance. Rather than being the result of human influence in her life her tail was badly mauled in a fight and was damaged enough that a partial amputation was required. Both ears were torn from her skull by her own father, not out of direct cruelty, but rather a tradition of their family passed down for many generations. Her round eyes are a deep golden brown while her nose is a dark liver color.

Personality
Alexandra is a friendly dog with an easygoing, amiable demeanor. Quite gentle despite her somewhat menacing appearance. She takes her duties extremely seriously and her amicable deamnor can quickly switch to something far more dangerous if a situation calls for it. She will defend other canines and herself with deadly force if there are no other options available and has taken a life more than once in defense of the kingdom.

The desire to protect and guard others has been hardwired into her brain since puphood and she would feel rather empty without this work to occupy her days. Respectful and courteous to all, Alexandra is generally a rather fair-minded dog unless given a reason not to be, at which point her snarky side comes out to play. Her tone leans on the dry side and her insults tend to sting. Most comments are kept to herself, but anyone who truly gets on her nerves should expect a sardonic remark tossed their way.

Backstory
Raised among a family who's males and females alike have served as Highvalley knights for generations. Their ancestors hailed from a different country, but they have kept the traditions of their distant kin alive. The dogs from which they are descended were nomads, protectors of caravans and livestock. As their occupation often saw them battling wolves, large cats and even other dogs it became a tradition to remove their own ears and tails so an enemy would have less to grab onto. The removal of ears has been kept by Alexandra's family even now, performed on pups too young to remember the pain, though whether or not to discard one's tail is left to each individual dog as it tends to be a far more agonizing and risky surgery. Alexandra followed in the pawsteps of her parents and siblings, becoming a knight of the kingdom.

Kin
Bruno • Father • OPEN.
[Their relationship is quite decent. He is proud of his daughter's achievements and strength, encouraging her to continue serving Highvalley to the best of her ability.]

Open for siblings.

Theme Song
Count On Me - Default.

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"Only rainbows after rain, the sun will always come again."

Name
Dag.

Age
4 years old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Pansexual | Panromantic.

Rank & Affiliation
Highvalley Court | Gatherer.

Breed
King Shepherd Dog.

Accessories
A simple brown and black beaded necklacehanging from around the neck.

Appearance
A rather large canine, reaching 32.6 inches at the shoulder and weighing close to 170 pounds. His build is robust and muscular, a dog that could have easily trained as a Knight, but chose a less violent path in life instead. His coat is hard and dense, meant to keep frigid winter winds from touching his skin. He has a wedge shaped head with a slightly tapering muzzle, triangular ears and powerful scissor-like jaws. His tail is long and bushy and curls upward subtly near the end. Dag's eyes are a warm chocolate brown color. He has a predominantly black pelt with silver colored markings around the eyes and along the legs and well as lining the tail.

Personality
The most accurate word that could be used to describe Dag is enthusiastic. The dog is a literal ray of sunshine, rarely seen without a smile or a jubilant skip to his step. He chooses to see the positives in life rather than let the negatives get him down. Even in this troubled world he's found himself tangled in, there is always hope for a brighter future. Meticulous and observant, he has an eye for detail when it comes to most things in life, but is somewhat clueless to the workings of proper social etiquette.

He’s a fairly curious sort and finds the viking dogs more intriguing than dangerous, as foolish as that will likely prove. His inquisitiveness sometimes gets him in trouble as he has a habit of nosing around places or canines he shouldn't. Generally, Dag is a non-violent dog and is viewed as harmless if not a bit strange among the other canines of Highvalley Court, but if pushed far enough he’d likely surprise people with the level of viciousness he’s capable of. While his kindly, warm demeanor is authentic, every dog has their demons.

Backstory
Trigger warning; mention of murder.

Born a peasant with no noble, courageous heritage to speak of. His parents were farmers and he wasn't meant to be any different. As viking raids became more frequent in the countryside his parents made the heartbreaking decision to abandon their land, gathering up what little they had before leaving their home behind, herding their livestock along with them. Unfortunately the animals attracted unwanted attention and it wasn't long before they were confronted by the canines they had hoped to avoid.

His father was murdered in the struggle, his mother grabbing him by the scruff and fleeing in the chaos. They made it to the court with nothing to their name and were ushered inside by guards who thought the king ought to hear their story. While he had little to offer in the way of sympathy Erik was outraged vikings had dared step paw anywhere within his borders and it only further fueled his hatred. Dag's mother managed to find work as a provider and once he grew old enough he joined her. The knight captains made an attempt at recruiting him one or twice, but he always declined the offer.

Kin
Odessa • Mother • Deceased.
[He was still fairly young when she passed, only two years, but it was a peaceful death. She was quite old and it was simply her time to part with the world. That fact does not make him miss her any less.]

Daniel • Father • Deceased.
[Killed by vikings when he was only a pup, he has fond memories of his father, but has found his face has faded from his memory.]

He has no siblings, his parents only pup after many years of trying. They were both growing past the age of breeding when he was born and it had been agreed this would be there last try for a litter.

Theme Song
Keep Your Head Up - Andy Grammer.

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"Are you deranged like me? Are you strange like me?
Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
Pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?"

Name
Drift.

Age
3 years, 8 months old.

Gender
Female.

Orientation
Demisexual | Biromantic.

Rank & Affiliation
Blackback Guard | Scavenger.

Breeds
[50%] Arctic Wolf x [25%] Norwegian Elkhound x [30%] Siberian Husky.

Accessories
She isn't one for possessions so to speak, but often stains her pale coat red around the face and neck with the use of berries. She also wears a loose leather string necklace loaded with canine teeth. Where she acquires the teeth is...quite the question, but the implications aren't pretty.

Appearance
Drift is a long-legged canine with a thick, dense ivory colored coat and oval shaped pale golden eyes. She's a moderately sized female with a willowy build and darkly clawed paws, her nails filed to sharpened points. Her long fur tends to make her appear a bit thicker than she actually is, and while not lacking in muscle, Drift is mostly extraordinarily soft fluff. Black hair tips her fur around the neck, across the shoulders and down the back, contrasting from her otherwise white pelt. Shallow scars are scattered over her muzzle and both of her ears are torn, giving this wolfdog a look akin to a seasoned warrior despite the fact she has never been berserker, no matter how much she wishes it were true. Dark lines surround her eyes giving off the appearance of wearing mascara (to humans at least, since dogs obviously don't know what make-up is). Her nose and lips are also distinctively dark. She is 29 inches at the shoulder and weighs close to 80 pounds.

Personality
Drift is rather rough in demeanor. A bite first, ask questions later sort of girl. Well known for flinging herself into a battle without regard for consequences or self-preservation. Drift is a very focused and driven individual. Her anger tends to run cold and sometimes one may not know she is displeased with them until her teeth are snapping in their general direction. She is fairly straight forward and has little patience for nonsense. Though she is not a slayer she still keeps her combat skills sharp should she ever need them, often sparring with the other females in their spare time.

She will heed the warnings and advice of those she respects, but it's quite a bit of work to gain such a standing with her and as such she isn't especially well liked considering her defiant attitude. Drift has a hard time processing negative emotions and desperately needs an outlet. Unfortunately that outlet often takes the form of aggression and violence. When facing enemies she is merciless and known to leave mutilated corpses in her wake. More than anything she desperately desires to become a slayer, but also recognizes that under Ragnar's rule that's easier said than done.

Backstory
Born within the Guard. Her life hasn't been all that out of the ordinary. As with all females she was trained to be a scavenger and excels at both hunting and weapon making. Still, she is very uncontent. From practically the moment she could walk she had dreams of becoming a berserker. She made the mistake of challenging the Jarl when it was time for her to become apprenticed and was punished for her audacity. It did little to deter her dreams, but she was sure to be more careful with her words from that day forward. She kept her combat skills sharp, watching the males while they trained and practicing with other females who either held the same desires or simply wanted a basic understanding of fighting. Someday she would prove to the Jarl her destiny was not to remain a simple scavenger. She was meant for so much more.

Kin
None. Both parents are deceased and she never had siblings, born into a rare one pup litter.

Theme Song
Gasoline - Halsey.


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{* Darker silver brindle doggo on the left.}

"It's harder starting over than never to have changed."

Name
Revejo.

Age
3 years, 6 months old.

Gender
Male.

Orientation
Bisexual | Biromantic.

Breed
Grey Wolf x Swedish Elkhound x Irish Wolfhound x Dutch Shepherd Dog.

I'm not good at math so I ain't even going to try and figure out percentages here.

Rank & Affiliation
Blackback Guard | Berserker.

Accessories
Nothing. He's not the materialistic sort and prefers to give anything interesting he comes across away to packmates.

Appearance
A tall brute reaching 30 inches thanks to his Wolfhound heritage, weighing in a little under 125 pounds. Long, straight hair covers his muscular frame, harsh to the touch and free of curls or waves. His head, ears, hind legs and paws have shorter fur, but are still densely coated. Overall his silvery black brindle pelt offers optimal protection from the elements, growing a bit more wiry along the chest and underbelly. His almond shaped eyes are a deep shade of amber that always carry a sense of calm and patience.

Personality
Aloof and reserved, but not unkind. He isn't much of a talker and is generally considered dull by most who know him despite being the jarl's son. He'll often disappear on his own and wander about aimlessly despite the dangers of being captured by a highvalley patrol. Resentful of being dragged into anything over dramatic or having too much attention put on him, he'll give any dog who pushes past his limits a baleful glare and a low growl in warning.

While mostly non-violent when give the option despite his occupation, many would do well to note he's still a force to be reckoned with. He is fiercely protective of those he comes to care for, ridiculously sappy and happy to shower his loved ones in affection and random trinkets he finds on his solo expeditions. He is mostly a disappointment to his father as he takes no pleasure in war and doesn't appear to have any interest in following in his pawsteps.

Backstory
Trigger warning; implied abuse.

Born one of many pups of the Jarl. His mother saw him as little more than a bitter memory, as she had failed to keep Ragnar's attention any longer the moment her pregnancy became noticeable, and nursed him for only as long as nessacary before returning to her rank as a scavenger. Despite his upbringing Revejo always proved gentler and more thoughtful than the other males his age, more interested in watching the clouds over battle training.Regardless he grew into a powerful, formidable dog and went on to become one of the Guards Berserkers.

His passive nature and lack of interest in obtaining a higher position kept him from advancing ranks or gaining much of his father's attention. Revejo is aware he is a disappointment to his sire, but doesn't appear to have any interest in gaining his favor or trying to impress him, perhaps even finding Ragnar's behavior too abhorrent to admire him. He was treated especially harshly throughout his youngblood days in the hopes of toughening up and hasn't forgotten any of it.

Kin
Ragnar • Father • Played by northern.
[He finds his father's primitive attitudes unappealing, torn between obligatory love for his kin and uncertainty.]

Morgana • Mother • Deceased.
[His mother was not particularly loving or supportive, caring for him enough to nurse him and discarding him as soon as Revejo was old enough to begin eating solid food. She remained a well respected scavenger until meeting her end in an unfortunate hunting accident. They were never close, but he still mourned her.]

Rahla • Younger Half-Sister • OPEN.
[Quite fond of her. He attempts to give her the attention and care their father will not.]

Theme Song
Blackbirds - Linkin Park.

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"Alone with this vision. Alone with this sound. Alone in my dreams I carry around. I need you to see, nothing can change unless you believe."

Name
Ignatius.

Age
1 year, 7 months old.

Gender
Genderflux. Physically male.

Still uses he/him pronouns, but gender is unimportant/not a personal identity in his mind

Orientation
Demisexual | Demiromantic.

Rank & Affiliation
Blackback Guard | Youngblood.

Training under the Black Witch. Formerly. he was meant to be a Scavenger which explains why he's older than average for his position. The switch in occupation was fairly recent.

Breed
[85%] Ibizan Hound x [15%] Iberian Wolf.

Accessories
Decorates his pelt with a myriad of feathers and dried flowers. As his fur is quite short and they can't be woven into his hair he binds them to his body using leather strings.

Appearance
Delicate in appearance, but built fairly hardy all the same with strong bones. His wide, pointed ears are a trade-mark of the Ibizan Hound and that is the breed he clearly acquired the most traits from with barely any hint of wolf left in him despite it being within his bloodline. His coat is smooth and silky, majority burnt orange with white underfur and a streak of white down the muzzle and tipping his thin, curved tail. His eyes are a clear, pale amber flecked with copper and his nose is a rosy orange-pink color. He is still fairly short at only 18 inches, but will likely reach closer to 28 inches as a fully grown adult. As far as size goes, he is a lightweight at only 45 pounds. A noodle of a dog. As with most sighthound breeds his build is lithe and lean with an athletic outline and a springy gait.

Personality
He's a bit of an odd duck to say the least. In the long run Ignatius has a difficult time connecting with others on a personal level. He is naturally self-centered as a result, most focused on his own wants and what he thinks his friends and family need, which may not align with what they actually want or need. He isn't the strongest dog physically and prefers not to soil his paws with blood, as he finds violence in and of itself barbaric despite his upbringing. He's very hands off unless personally involved somehow, in which case he can prove quite malicious upon seeking revenge.

This makes him more or less harmless if left to his own devices, save for perhaps potentially emotionally scarring someone who isn't prepared to handle his personality. Ignatius is so caught up in his own ideals he rarely considers each person he interacts with as an individual unless they've managed to somehow be included in his 'inner circle'. He doesn't appear to be aware of his own cruelty, left puzzled when others avoid his company.

Despite his less than approachable attitude he enjoys being around other dogs, craving attention and affection. He doesn’t always understand or consider boundaries. This usually shows itself in the form of him 'borrowing' things that don’t belong to him, he never ceases to be surprised when this upsets someone, but he also appears to not know the meaning of personal space, often touching or leaning close to his packmates. While it can certainly be unsettling it is not done with ill intention. This young dog has a sharp mind and knack for healing despite his strange demeanor.

Background
Trigger warning; mention of abduction.

Ignatius was born among the Guard, but his family were strangers to the pack until fairly recently. His mother was snatched at a young age after the vikings raided a rural village, kept as a prisoner before eventually being accepted as a scavenger once she proved she had a skill for hunting and a passive demeanor that would keep her from betraying her captors. She came from a strict line of purebred Ibizan Hounds, not a drop of any unapproved breed flowing through her veins.

Privately she kept these traditions alive to the best of her ability, gently rejecting the advancements of most of the Guards male until she managed to catch the eye of the dog who resembled her own breed most. He wasn't perfect, keen to boast of his wild blood, but she took some comfort in knowing their offspring would be more hound than wolf. She favored her other pups over Ignatius, finding him a tad odd, but did not treat him unkindly.

He was raised to be a scavenger like his parents, but hunting clearly wasn't his calling. He had a habit of bringing plants home over prey and a tendency to wander away from any sort of training the adults attempted to give him. He would hang around the Black Witch more often than the scavengers, and eventually announced quite plainly he desired to be her apprentice. His requests were rejected over and over until very recently when one of his supposed visions proved true.

Kin
Insert generic family members here. Open if anyone wants to be related to him, but otherwise I'm not going to bother being detailed here.

Theme Song
Who Will Save You Now - Les Friction.

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All images are linked to their sources.

Agmund

Source
"We all are living in a dream.
But I want to dream, leave me to dream."

:: Age ::
3 Years

:: Gender ::
Male

:: Orientation ::
Demiromantic | Bisexual

:: Breed ::
Grey Wolf {50%} | Asian Shepherd {30%} | Collie {10%}

:: Rank & Affiliation ::
Highvalley Court | Prisoner

:: Accessories ::
Two thick chains clamped securely to his paws.
Rusted metal, but still unable to be slipped out of or broken.

:: Appearance ::
Tall and broad, from his face down to his toes, he is quiet the sight to behold and even those blind could see the wolf in his blood. His body shows true power, though his lack of expression shows what he's willing to do with it all. Nothing. His unkept coat, the thick curls and knots show he uninterested in anything and leaves others thinking little of him despite the promise he holds.

His paws are stained red from the tight shackles that bound him to the floor, caring little to even clean the blood from them. His hooded gaze holds deep brown eyes, gentle some would be shocked to see under all that nothingness. The golden streaks that form a sharp arrow down his large forehead, forming a cape against his thick fur are either results of his uncleanliness, or lineage.

:: Personality ::
A stoic and blank faced male, he towers over most and seems to be affected by nothing. No threats, or bargains, perhaps not interested. Or truly good at hiding his emotions. He values secrecy, and though his not the most loyal, is true to those who show him kindness and patience.
Never really taking to the loud and rambunctious.

He knows full well of the war the canines find themselves in, and is also aware of the state they'd soon find their home if they don't quickly take one another out, or somehow work together. He doesn't exactly want a part in the war, in fact a bit lazy when it comes to doing anything, and sides more with the dogs than the wolves when it comes to the ways of living. Taking notice of even Highvalley's clean cells.

He wishes to gain their trust, and knows the Lord King and knights understand this, but don't trust him to not turn on them as soon as he's gained his strength back and is taken out of his chains. He only wishes to help in the dissapearence of the wolves, knowing there is very little chance of a truce. Even if, very little chance it would hold up.

For now though, he revels in the illusion that everything is fine, this having something to do with his motivation to do anything.

:: Backstory ::
Born to Blackback Guard, he was raised as a fighter and grew to be so. Though he despised it, and looked for any aportunity to leave. Finally he had an opening. Without hesitance he fled, the Blackbackguard still hot on his trail to bring back the traitor who have many of their secrets, and know plenty about their Lord Jarl. He showed up at the doorstep of Highvalley only to be thrown in jail, most of its dogs suspecting he be a spy who only wants to gain there trust.

He hasn't told them anything yet, afraid of being tortured for more information he might not have, and also being killed if they think he's lying. Instead he hopes that his corporation will earn him a place in their ranks, only then will he expose his old "allies" secrets.

:: Relationships ::
Will Be Updated

:: Theme Song ::
Imagine Dragons | Dream

:: Other ::

Daymara Lawwood

Source
"And others just untie themselves, uncurling lifelines.
If you could just forgive yourself."

:: Age ::
5 Years

:: Gender ::
Female

:: Orientation ::
Heteroromantic | Heterosexual

:: Breed ::
Australian Shepherd {70%} | Golden Retreiver {30%}

:: Rank & Affiliation ::
Highvalley Court | Gatherer

:: Accessories ::
A necklace of flowers and beads adorn her large neck, many a colors weaved into the fresh vines. A matching bijou lay slack atop her left paw, as well as three curled into her long tail tufts.

:: Appearance ::
A bueaty to say the least, Daymara has been courted plenty to understand this. She has never accepted offers of marriage and plans not to for quiet some time. Not many can seem to figure out why, but don't badger her too much on the situation as it makes her fall into an uncomfortable and blue silence. This worries others as she is usually seen with a gentle glitter in her green eyes, as well as a lazy smile on her slim round muzzle.

Her soft features have made lovers from all around Highvalley stubborn and persitant in gaining her affections. Soft ears and well kept fur that clings snuggly to her broad shoulders and slim waist and hips. Her head flat and round, like that of a cats. Her eyes matching nicely to the shape with their slanted and narrow gaze, almost coming off of seductive. Her berry colored pelt is aflame in the light of the sun, looking as if it's burn anyone who dare approach. Though under the moons carfeful caress is another story, as her strong orange patches blend beautifly with the now turned blue of her white chest and long legs.

:: Personality ::
A quiet though not shy female, Daymara is as kind as she is gorgeous. Tending to others needs and wants without questions, sometimes even forgetting her own, she values friendship and loyalty more than anything. Showing fierce loyalty of her own in the process. Though she shows this in more ways than the baring of sharp fangs, in fact finding the need to fight a bit pointless when there are an ubundancs of other ways to come to an agreement without shedding blood.

She's become an excellent gatherer, knowing the best places to find berries and healing herbs for Highvalley. Having become an expert at perception, her senses at the peak of perfection. This does make her sensitive to others things as well, such as bad smells which seem to knack her back a few steps if faced with them. Blood infact is a smell she despises, and so leaves the hunting to other gatherers and the like.

No one knows why she seems to be so hung up on providing endless amounts of supplies to the kingdom, but no one questions it as she'd a great help. Daymara, of course likes to keep this secret. Do to having fallen in love with an enemy, she feels the weight of treason heavy on her shoulders, but does well to cover it up. The only way she'd ever truly forgive herself though, is I felt she does something about the war between canines.

:: Backstory ::
Born and raised at Highvalley, her father was a knight who'd died during a training accident, the dog responsible was let off free, though Daymara suspects it had been on purpose, as her father had been known to have bumped heads a few times with his murderer. Of course only by his family, as he kept issues with other knights secret, afraid to cause any problems. Afterwords, her mother Failev had fallen ill, and most had assumed it to be her broken heart who had taken her health so quickly. This left Daymara to care for her, as the kingdom had been busy with missions set out by the Lord King. She's been but a pup during this disastrous time, but had learned a lot.

How to fend for herself, and living on her own she had to learn this quite fast otherwise end up on the streets of Highvalley. She learned the strengths of loyalty, a kind dog who helped her eat and sleep on a warm clean bed every night. Without her Daymara doesn't doubt she'd been in her own grave beside her parents. The old dog had passed to her age some time ago, and even though Daymara still mourns for her companions absence, she makes time in helping the kingdom as she'd been taught to do.

:: Relationships ::
Vilks | Ex-lover
A coyote hybrid she'd fallen head over paws for once ago when she was but a young pup confused and naive in the world of affections. He was convincing and gentle when faced with her despite his harsh nature she'd been read out again and again before. One night when they'd planned on meeting at their hidden spot beneath a concealing willow, he never showed, and he was never heard from again.

Failev Lawwood | Mother
A kind old dog who'd been taken by a sudden sickness. Daymara had been left to treat her when all the knights in the kingdom had gone to take care of the wolves extinction. She'd learned a lot that day, and doesn't regret seeing her mother in her dying and weakened state.

Rass | Old Companion
An old dog who'd saved her as a pup from starvation. She recently died of age and Daymara had her burial site requested to be beside her parents. She goes there everyday with three flowers for their graves.

:: Theme Song ::
Florence + Machine | Various Storms and Saints

:: Other ::

Radu

Source
"All my wolves begin to howl, wake me up the time is now.
Can you hear the drumming? There's a revolution coming."

:: Age ::
7 Years

:: Gender ::
Male

:: Orientation ::
Aromantic | Pansexual

:: Breed ::
German Shepherd {60%} | Arctic Wolf {40%}

:: Rank & Affiliation ::
Blackback Gaurd | Lord Commander

:: Accessories ::
A wolf's spine strapped with strong leather straps to his back. The animal skin is stained black, two strips secured tightly to his ribcage and waist. A grey rag also wraps loosely around his head, hanging down to circle one ear and enclose over his left eye.

:: Appearance ::
A large black brute, though not as big as some, still intimidating all the same. With a thick black coat, boxy snout and face giving him a terrifying appearance, along with the crooked fangs that poke out past his nearly always red stained lips. Large eyes that seem to glow in low light, the flash of yellow is greatly contrasted against the large wisps of dark fur that shape his face.

His tail is longer than it is full of fur, adding to his rugged and disheveled look. With a bent ear that sags down towards his cheek. The rags that wrap around this ear cover his missing left eye, the bloodied hole dried and cracked, and only exposing it to others when he plans to frighten them.

:: Personality ::
Cold yet also fire like, Radu is as unpredictable as they come. He loves to battle, wether it be to train or to litter the grounds with his enemies, it doesn't matter. He can be joking and cocky one minute, then the next a series of crooked and sharp fangs can be inches from your face and just about ready to snap down. He's not exactly friendly, but can be fun to get along with when he's not acting like the later, and even has a sense of humor no matter how dark.

Once he's got his mind on something, he does his damned best to get it done. Nothing can really get in his way long enough to deter him, even if it does succeed he'd still not be able to get it out of his mind. He would listen to higher ups of course, though not without a couple of questions and annoyed flicks of his tail. He doesn't really like being told what to do, but knows he needs to listen unless he'd want to have his current position taken from him, which would be without hesitation.

Unlike most other males, females aren't all that interesting to him, in fact. No one really is. Of course he has needs and wants, but these are usually satisfied by bloodshed alone, and all in all it's a bit hard to have him distracted. This just adding to his, get the job done, personality. He does find things pretty and endearing, but not enough to pull away from his primal need for carnage.

:: Backstory ::
Found by the Blackback Gaurd abandoned at the bank of a river, most likely left there to die. He was trained harshly from a young age and is now a well respected and unforgiving member of the wolves of Romsdal.

:: Relationships ::
Will Be Updated

:: Theme Song ::
The Score | Revolution

:: Other ::
Not exactly Aromantic, just hard to fall in love <3
And my favorite OC at the moment has to be one of my Dragon babies

Wren

x
"Thought you said that you would always be in love
But you're not in love no more"

::Age::
Three years and Three months

::Gender::
Female

::Orientation::
All sexualities welcome.

::Breed::
German Shepherded [80% x Belgian Malinois [40%] x Iberian Wolf [20%]

::Rank & Affiliation::
Scavenger of Blackback Guard

::Accessories::
Vine that has a small rock bead that wraps around her upper left thigh

::Appearance::
Wren's paw pads are a solid black that is covered in rough texture due to her love for exploring, leading up to her paws they are a light tan that leads up her leg connecting with her body. But the front of her legs are covered in a dark brown almost black color. Wren's forechest is the same brown as her legs before mixing with the darker brown that makes a line down to her stomach, a large portion of her neck is brown until it meets the back that fades into the dark brown that runs around to her face causing it to be mainly dark causing her brown eyes to stand out. Wren's back and upper thighs are dark brown matching the rest of her before her legs fade right back into the light brown, the top of her tail is dark brown before it fades to the bottom being the lighter brown. Wren stands just under 55 inches, her height coming from the Belgian Malinois in her, she weighs just over fifty pounds with thin muscle that allows her to move around quickly.

::Personality::
Wren often doesn't talk unless she's spoken to first, she never tries to start flights and almost always submits to anyone larger than her. While she is quiet towards most, those she's comfortable with she's a bit hyper, while still being quiet, but she comes up with the oddest things to say and will often zone out. Her zoning out rarely effects with her hunting but has once or twice.

::Backstory::
Wren was one of three pups, she was the oldest born none the less, she was called Wren by her mother seeing as she looked like a Wren bird when she was first born, her colors not darkening till she grew. She and her two siblings were born in a small cave her mother had dug just before she was ready to give birth, and when the pups were old enough their mother brought them back to the pack. Growing up Wren was always talking and always asking others questions.

As Wren grew older she fell in love with a Berserker, who ended up falling in love with another dog, therefore, he tried leaving the pack to go be rouge with her, but was instead killed for his actions. Him falling in love and trying to leave but ultimately getting killed broke Wren's heart causing her personality to shift to what it is now, quite and often zoning out to think of different things.

::Kin::
Mother • Passed on
Wren's mother was a scavenger like Wren herself, was killed when Wren was just under a year old.

Father • Unknown
Wren is unsure of who her father is but she does know he is in the pack, her mother just never told her, or anyone else who it was.

Siblings • Two-Alive
Wren loves her siblings[Open] she often doesn't talk to them but she does care for them and help when ever she can

Ex lover• Passed on
Tenta was Wren's Ex-lover who was murdered since he tried to leave the pack for a rouge dog.

::Other::
She's open to siblings! [Two]
My Oc is actually my Oc ' Hansel' but not the one below!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toklo

x
"Young blood, heaven need a sinner
You can't raise hell with a saint"

::Age::
One year, 10 months

::Gender::
Male

::Orientation::
Heterosexual

::Breed::
Anatolian Shepherd [88%] x Wolf [12%]

::Rank & Affiliation::
YoungBlood of BlackBack pack

::Accessories::
He has a band wrapped around his upper left leg. The band is made up of leather he found

::Appearance::
Toklo is a bulky dog even at his young age, He stands just over two feet and four inches, and around 120lbs. Taklo's head is an odd mix of black and tan, his ears are solid black before they turn into the tan of his head, a black stripe going down his forehead mixing with the black that spots his snout, His eyes stand out rather prettily from his face giving them almost orange look even if they are brown. His neck is thick, it's the same tan and black, just better mixed than his head. His chest has a barely noticeable white mark on it and the rest of his body is Tan.

::Personality::
Toklo is a trouble maker, he often goes off and does things he shouldn't and messes with other creatures. He often gets scolded by his father and mother but will forget about the scolding less than an hour later and go off and do it again. He's not very bright but he does use his brute body when it's needed, often getting into fights with stray's for the fun of it or because they look at him wrong. But all over Toklo is a sweet heart towards those he cares about and often buts himself in the face of danger

::Backstory::
Toklo being the first born was always expected to be the best, but he father quickly realized he wasn't fit to be a leader or second in command so he moved on to the younger brothers. Taklo never really cared about that though often preferring to do what ever he wants, but he did listen to his father every so often. Growing up he tried to stand up for the youngest, Sangrita, but often it got ignored. Toklo is rather known for his brute strength but is often seen as a sweet heart by those who know him.

::Kin::
Siblings
Sangrita | Sister | Favors | Played by ☣⚜Skazzle☬Skittz☣{WCU}
Lincoln | Brother | Likes| ADOPTABLE [Message ☣⚜Skazzle☬Skittz☣{WCU}]
Sereno | Brother | Likes | ADOPTABLE [Message ☣⚜Skazzle☬Skittz☣{WCU}]
Shadow | Brother | Likes | ADOPTABLE [Message ☣⚜Skazzle☬Skittz☣{WCU}]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hansel

x
"They'll tear us apart
If you give them the chance."

::Age::
Four Years and Three months

::Gender::
Male

::Orientation::
Heterosexual

::Breed::
Doberman [60%] x Rottwiler [40%]

::Rank & Affiliation::
Knight of Highvalley Court

::Accessories::
Vines that wrap around his neck just under his jaw.

::Appearance::
Hansel stands just at 26 inches and weighs around 95lbs. Hansel's fur is short and sleek never sticking up from his body. He has almost no Rottweiler look on him other than his markings. Hansel is a black all over his body other than his muzzle, above his eyes, spots on his forechest and the lower parts of his legs. He does have a clipped tail that is scared horribly due to his childhood

::Personality::
Hansel never forgives, it's hard for him too and if he has some sort of anger towards you he tends to ignore you until the problem goes away. Hansel has some form of underlying blood lust that makes him go crazy in battle and kill those who don't smell familiar. Hansel does try to have compassion towards others but it's hard for him to try and force emotion towards others.

::Backstory::
Hansel was born outside the pack, but when he was a little under three weeks his mother moved him and his older brother into the pack to hope for a good life for them. Hansel grew up in the pack and didn't even know he wasn't born in the pack until he was about two and his mother told him when she got sick, after that he started ignoring his mother and isn't even sure if she's still alive. He rarely speaks to his brother and often avoids him at all cost.

::Kin::
Mother-Alive
Hansel's mother is alive but is still rather sick, while he doesn't know she's still alive he wouldn't go and see her even if he knew

Brother-Alive
Hansel doesn't speak to his brother, rarely tries to talk to him and often acts like he doesn't see his brother when he actually does.

::Other::
Open to older brother!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Freya

x
"And we'll never be royals
It don't run in our blood
That kind of lux just ain't for us"

::Age::
Six Years

::Gender::
Female

::Orientation::
Heterosexual

::Breed::
German Shepherded [%50] x Labrador [50%]

::Rank & Affiliation::
High Priestess of Highvalley Court

::Accessories::
Freya has feathers stuck in the scruff of her neck and small leather bands wrapped around her 'wrist'

::Appearance::
Freya is almost solid black but has a white strip on her chest, and the lower part of her front paws are brown. Freya's ears stand tall off her head almost ridiculously so, her snout is long and her nose is black. Due to her legs being so long and her fur, the way it is makes it easy for her to swim. While she is rather thin and holds very little muscle on her body, she doesn't make for a good fighter and often gets taken down by smaller dogs.

::Personality::
Freya is a playful dog, she loves her job and often talks to others about it. This female is often seen talking to the younger dogs, she loves to tell them about what her job is and what they can do to achieve her, and Vigdis, level of spiritual energy. Much like Vigdis she's rather good at convincing others to do things and can convince others to join the same path as the clan. Freya's pretty sure the reason most dogs do trust her is due to her almost ridiculous but pretty figure.

::Backstory::
Freya was the only pup born in the first litter of pup's her mother and father had, and due to her being female her father rarely talked to her and her mother set her off on her own as soon as it was safe. Less than a year after her younger siblings were born Freya meet with one of the old Priest who talked about the will of God and what she could do to better her life, so she started listening to all the priest services and often was seen talking to them when ever she could. Due to her love for God as well as people she took a role as a High Priestess as soon as it was open. Freya no longer has bitter feelings towards her parents or siblings, she often tries to see them as often as she can even if they are not proud of her and often tell her she's making a mistake since she won't be able to take a mate.

::Kin::
Mother-
Freya uses to hold hate in her heart towards her mother for never standing up for her. But over time Freya realized there was no need to hate her mother.

Father
Freya's father, on the other hand, Freya has yet to forgive her father, she tries hard to forgive him but it's always a bit hard for her to do.

SIblings-A year younger litter-Open
Freya doesn't know her younger siblings that well, she would like to but she often can't find the time and always feels a bit awkward around them.

::Other::
Open to younger siblings!

"Don't wanna reach for me, do you?
I mean nothing to you
The little things give you away
And now there will be no mistaking
The levees are breaking."
Mone

|••|Age|••|
3 years.

|••|Gender|••|
Female.

|••|Orientation|••|
Heterosexual.

|••|Breed|••|
German Shepherd[100%]

|••|Rank & Affiliation|••|
Highvalley Court|••|Knight, hopes to be called Captain one day.

|••|Accessories|••|
Two gray bird feathers stuck behind her ears, a leather coral decorated with withered red roses and 4 other gray feathers woven into the fur of her tail.

|••|Appearance|••|
Mone is an averagely tall female, standing at 32 inches at the shoulders. She weighs about 150 pounds and has a lean bodybuild, despite her long fur. Her tail is somehow longer than her mother, father or brother's, giving her the ability to grab light objects such as leaves and twigs and carry them for a very short while. She has sharp claws and fangs, although she prefers to not use them. Her best sense is smelling, and even if dogs excell in the art of smells, she is slightly better than the average. Her eyesight is very poor, and thus she helps herself orientate in space with her nose and ears.

Her pelt is of a pure ebony, small and narrow orange spots appearing on her cheek, back and tail. The orange slowly fades around her back and becomes more visible around her tail. Her tail tip is also orange, her paws having small white speckles. Mone's nose is part orange, part black, almost symmetrically. Her right eye is covered with orange, giving off the impression of always having it scarred. This she-dog's eyes are of an emerald green, sometimes appearing as brown and gray while in the darkness. Delicate yellow stripes also cross her iris, making them look like a camouflage uniform. Her long body helps her at running and chasing prey instead of fighting. She always thought agility was more important than brute strength.

|••|Personality|••|
Mone is a pretty cold hearted she-dog, preferring to be alone most of the time. However, no interaction with dogs for a whole day will make her depressed and help her insecurity grow. Luckily, her brother is always there to cheer her up or keep her company. She is as well clingy after she befriends someone, and incredibly jealous. If she ever sees one of her friends talk to someone else and ignore her, an enormous feeling of betrayal will gather inside of her. Truth is, if the individual talks with her again, any negative feeling about them will be gone. This she-dog likes keeping her sadness inside her and let herself get overwhelmed by it. She knows how to hide her feelings. I mean, all feelings except love. Whenever she loves someone, she won't be scared to show it and will often become overprotective.

Of course, Mone has a few qualities as well. Her ability of reading wolves often gives her an edge in arguments or interactions with others. She's been really determined lately, and somehow has a boost of confidence. A tiny one, that is. Mone has no doubt about her looks, as her mother used to compliment her appearance. She is as well really confident when it comes to speed. Mone has an almost unbreakable shield that defends her emotions, opening to very few and select dogs. She loves swimming and the rain. Her favorite time of the day is the evening. Even if she is somewhat afraid of the dark, she loves "bathing" in the Moonlight.

|••|Backstory|••|
Mone has been born to two German Shepherds. Life was great and all, until her father somehow decided to meet other female dogs. Probably because he was getting bored of his mate. Of course, her mother found out and confronted him. He has never apologized or showed any sign of regret at that time, and continued seeing other dogs. Unfortunately, this happened when the two siblings were younger than an year, and it affected them deeply. Thanks to this, Mone has become insecure, and Sen fake. After a while, when their father became ill, he came back home and apologized, asking for help later. He was paid occasional visits, however they all decided to leave him alone the way he left them.

|••|Kin|••|
Sen[brother;loves]
Aratha[mother;loves]
Genen[father;likes]

|••|Other|••|
My own favorite OC is the girl I'm using now, Mone.



☼☾☽☼


"And the truth is, you turn into someone else
You keep running like the sky is falling
I can whisper, I can yell
But I know, yeah I know, yeah I know
I'm just talking to myself."
Sen

•||•Age•||•
3 years.

•||•Gender•||•
Male.

•||•Orientation•||•
Heterosexual.

•||•Breed•||•
German Shepherd[100%]

•||•Rank & Affiliation•||•
Highvalley Court•||•Knight.

•||•Accessories•||•
A simple leather coral with a few small embedded stones in it.

•||•Appearance•||•
Sen stands at 34 inches and weighs around 160 pounds, having a sturdy bodybuild. He has a very short tail and fur, his muscles visible at his every move. He has large fangs and claws, being able to even pierce wood. His love for fighting makes him sharpen his claws on hard rocks weekly and chew small tree branches, sometimes even out of boredom. His best sense is hearing, as he can hear a bush rustle silently even if another dog is howling. He also has poor eyesight, though he can still see clearly within 5 feet, unlike his sister.

The upper half of his body -head, neck and front paws- is of a yellowish orange, his eyebrows being black. His back legs and tail are also black, somehow "cutting" him in half. He has white paw pads and nose, his ears extremely long and fragile. Even a small claw touching them could cause him pain. He has thin skin, and thanks to his also short fur, he can easily get scars or wounds. He's always had a problem with healing, and any cuts he gets will most likely get infected and eventually make him ill. His eyes are of an light blue, darker stripes also crossing his iris. Small gray spots are splattered around. They occasionally appear white and give the impression of being blind while the sun's rays are coming directly onto them. Sen's strong build makes him better at fighting rather than hunting. He's valued brute strength over agility for his whole life.

•||•Personality•||•
Sen's always cheerful and likes being friendly. At least, that's what it seems on the outside. He is extremely fake and knows how to act. Manipulative is the perfect word to describe him, as his sweet words can easily charm someone. Flattery is his best way of manipulation. His true self is much more sadistic and evil in almost every way possible. He nonetheless cares deeply about the dogs close to him. Sen learned how to act positively so well it isn't always an act now. Unlike his sister, he holds grudges for a long time and will come for revenge whenever he wants. He does not appreciate other people's work or opinions thanks to his immense confidence. This male loves showing his emotion and is never afraid to do so. Except hatred. That would of course damage his reputation.

One of his best aptitudes is his acting. Besides defending his reputation, his ways also protects others' feelings. He is in fact very easily angered or triggered, but he immediately hides it. Even if he acts friendly towards them in public, he's probably already planning a way to make them want to stay away from him. He isn't and won't be afraid to spill a dog's blood, even if the individual was dear to him in the past. One thing Sen and Mone have in common is their jealousy. Thanks to this, both of them will protect their friends until the end of their lives. He is rather confident in his fighting, however running is pretty easy for him as well. In fact, he is confident in everything he does. Nobody knows what made him act like this, not even Mone. She however is the only one who knows most of what he shows is fake. Sen is extremely possessive and likes convincing other wolves his way is the only one. He's loved very few wolves truly during his whole life. Say, around 5? His favorite time of the day is the morning. He loves staying out in the sun and even if it sometimes bothers him, he still prefers staying in the Sunlight over the darkness.

•||•Backstory•||•
Sen has been born to two German Shepherds. Life was great and all, until his father somehow decided to meet other female dogs. Probably because he was getting bored of his mate. Of course, her mother found out and confronted him. He has never apologized or showed any sign of regret at that time, and continued seeing other dogs. Unfortunately, this happened when the two siblings were younger than an year, and it affected them deeply. Thanks to this, Mone has become insecure, and Sen fake. After a while, when their father became ill, he came back home and apologized, asking for help later. He was paid occasional visits, however they all decided to leave him alone the way he left them.

•||•Kin•||•
Mone[sister;loves]
Aratha[mother;loves]
Genen[father;dislikes]

“We hope all danger may
Be overcome, but to conclude that no
Danger may ever arise
Would itself be
Extremely dangerous.” - Abraham Lincoln

Vigdis

Age
6 Years & 4 Months.


Gender
Female || Bitch.


Orientation
Bisexual || Biromantic.


Breed
Cirneco dell’Etna Dog.


Rank & Affiliation
Highvalley Court || High Priest(ess).


Accessories
A single feather, bordered by two brown beads hangs vigilantly from a loose string around her neck, a brown and red beaded choker just a few inches above it.
Animal claws pierce her large, sensitive ears. Though she does have problems with the punctured holes, she feels that the animal claws are a way to show that even though she is pretty, she can be intimidating.
A dark gray hood rests on her shoulders. Usually, she is seen wearing this thick fabric over her head, keeping to herself and acting as if she hasn't a care in the world. And to keep this fabric from blowing away, a chain was attached and sewn into the hood and hangs against her chest.


Appearance
Vigdis is a replica of her mother, father, littermates, and ancestors. Maybe even any pups to come in the future. Her fur is short and sleek, and since there is barely any length to it, there is hardly a time when this canine isn’t looking attractive, Vigdis might be skinny and smaller than most hounds in comparison, she is quite muscular and ready to fight. Vigdis has a narrow face, like most hounds such as herself, though, the most defining part of her is her ravishing light amber eyes.


Personality
Vigdis is extremely good at talking, she can make the most brutal plan sound like it will be a walk in the park with rainbows and cake at the end without ever telling a lie. Vigdis is known for her extreme use of half truths and truth stretching. Her words are often very telling and it is rare to get a full truth from the female. Vigdis is known for being hard to talk to because of this, however. Easily making dogs who are unwilling or non-receptive to others sing a different tune after a short conversation. Some others see her as a snake but most admire this trait about her due to her way with words. She speaks with such ease that everyone listens - who doesn't want that? This manipulation is deadly and has cost some less on their toes dogs to run to their death, others find this trait idolizing and have begun to see Vigdis as less of a dog and more of a Goddess. Wherever you fit in this line it's certainly a deadly line to walk on.

Vigdis is never the warmest and cuddly of dogs, however, with herself common attitude being such a dismissive one most dogs simply don't try to have a simple nice conversation with the bitch. Vigdis never really speaks about herself or anything personal and in company she usually is rather quiet and only speaks to those whose opinions and words matter. Vigdis doesn't favor other dogs and their opinions, be it her narcissism or her sociopathic tendencies she would rather be left alone and to her own devices. She sees dogs like puppets or pawns in a game of chess. Though this is a very negative way for her to look on about others it is how she measures their worth and right to be in her presence.

Vigdis’ words usually make others feel lesser, her clever comebacks and quick thinking help others feel like they need her. She knows how to keep her worth to the Court and also how to make everyone remember that she is a high rank without ever coming off as mean or forceful. With a likeness to a snake, she has been viewed as someone who can slink in and out of situations almost seamlessly. Trained to not flinch at any opportunity to raise in power Vigdis knows how to work a crowd. Vigdis knows how to play her cards, however, sometimes she does it in a way that can be seen as her being a snake. This fear of never knowing when you are talking to the real Vigdis usually makes her a loner who has few close friends, if any. Though this trait allows her to get things that she usually could not as well as win arguments and fights while fighting a little dirty, it also leaves her with a bit of a downfall with the close relations and approval that she often desires. This trait also works well with her talking. She can sell everything and anything to everyone. This common deception is a trait Vigdis tends to greatly enjoy, pushing limits and playing with boundaries to see just how far she can wrap someone into her wicked games.

Vigdis is still a responsible pack-mate and although she is cold on the outside, she genuinely cares about each part of the pack and, likewise, cares to learn every dog's name and their strengths and weaknesses - though this is less because she cares for the individual and more due to her caring about herself. When she speaks to you the first time chances are she has already looked into you, spoken to others and even searched for things to tell her more about you. Everything Vigdis does is for the betting of the pack and she is known to go to drastic measures to protect them from everyone, including the wrath of the Blackback Guard. In the end, Vigdis wants to have the hook in everyone's head that draws them to her so when she attempts to take control no one would have any qualms. Vigdis is extremely dedicated to the Highvalley Court. Even more, than she is to herself. Because of her dedicated nature, it means that she is less likely to abandon ship or do something to break this commitment. She will do anything to make sure she gets her needed results, no matter who she needs to cut down or terminate in the process. Dedicated to a fault Vigdis has issues backing down from any challenge and she will often find a way to reach her results without ever getting her paws dirty.

Vigdis doesn't like dogs trying to get to know her on a personal level. Professionally she enjoys talking to others - even looking into the other dogs past she never faults, however, whenever someone turns their sights to look into Vigdis she instantly closes off and pushes others away. Quickly becoming cold and throwing walls up to prevent others from becoming close to her. She doesn't like others to see her scars and weaknesses so quickly ends up hiding them from others who try to get to know her. She always assumes that overthrowing her would be the only reason for dogs to grow close.

Backstory
Vigdis has had a normal and uninteresting life like most canines, even though that doesn’t explain why the bitch is so sour. Maybe it’s because of the death of her parents, or the fact that her mother had moved on from her father too quickly, or knowing that her mother was giving more attention to her step-sister rather than her first born. Who knows. Not many canines, nor her mother, know much about the grumpy bitch.
As a pup, Vigdis had a joyful life, that was until her father was killed by one of the Blackguard Dogs. Her mother says that is when her mood swings began. The pup was no longer a sweet little jelly bean, as her mother would call her, but now a grumpy, ill-mannered, disrespectful brat. Some wonder why and how she has earned the rank of a High Priest, Vigdis gives them a simple answer though. She is good at hiding her emotions and can put on a fake smile for just about any situation.
As a teen, Vigdis had taken notice of her mother's absence in the den, and so she became suspicious of the older female, questioning her mother whenever she returned tired or following the female but losing her amongst the trees of their territory. It wasn’t showing but Vigdis worried about her mother, more than she worried about herself. One day while she was following her mother, she must have been really quiet while stalking the knight, but she made it just in time to find her mother cuddling up against another canine. Vigdis would have none of it the moment she arrived and broke them apart, yelling at her mother as her eyes welled with tears before running away. Basically, her hormones got more intense after that. Now that Vigdis knew about her little a fair, her mother began to bring the male to their den, laughing and flirting with him, which made Vigdis utterly sick. She couldn’t stand to see her mother with any other canine but her father.
After a few years, Vigdis got used to seeing her step-father’s face amongst the family, still bitter towards him as usual and annoyed to know that he took no offense to her feelings. But, little did she know that her hormones would be sent on a roller coaster ride of mixed emotions when her mother announced that she was yet again, PREGNANT.
Recently her mother had given birth, and at this moment, she had moved up to the rank of High Priest, spending more time alone than with her growing family. Vigdis did miss her mother's presence, but the thought of seeing her loving up to that new pup and her new mate made the Cirneco dell’Etna sick. Basically, her backstory had made up her personality, and though some could blame it on her new family members, it is all because of how the bitch views them, and that is as intruders who slid their way into her family tree.


Kin
Yngvild - Sire - Purebred Cirneco dell’Etna - Deceased
(Was killed by a wolf during a hunt)
Sayd - Step-Sire - Purebred Ibizan Hound - Alive
(Open to be played)
Hilde - Dam - Purebred Cirneco dell’Etna - Alive
(Open to be played)
Votusia - Step litter-mate - Cirneco dell’Etna x Ibizan Hound (Looks more like an Ibizan) - Alive
(Open to be played)

Other
I actually do have an OC (I hid the folder away from my dog cause she tore through it and almost destroyed every piece of evidence I had of my OC), but don’t have a picture of her online. She’s an adorable redhead homosexual 21-year-old. My second favorite would have to my friends OC, which is also a homosexual, but she is actually married and already has a whole plot with our other friend, who plays her wife.


”It is dangerous for mortal beauty, or
Terrestrial virtue, to be examined by too
Strong a light.
The torch of truth shows much
That we cannot, and all that would not
See.” - Samuel Johnson