|
about None
| |||||||||
|
Registration Date: 05-27-2013
Last Visit: 08-29-2013 06:40 AM Total Posts 33 Played By: Ari 
 Total EXP
|
|||||||||
| Tantrum's Info | |||||||||
|
general information
|
|||||||||
Relations:
Other Info:
| |||||||||
|
appearance
|
|||||||||
|
Reference
Tantrum is a fairly small male, falling on the lighter end of the weight range. He definitely cannot hold his own in a fight. He's more apt to run away. His timid personality prevents him from fighting for food or hunting it for himself most days, leaving him rather weak and malnourished, Tantrum is a lanky little thing and not very strong. But he is fast. His speed is probably the only thing that ever saves his life. He has been on the run for most of his sad existence, so it's only logical that he'd be good at it. Tantrum’s pelt is a shimmery silver with black markings. Multiple scars can be found on his little body, interrupting the smooth flow of fur. His coat is thin, but surprisingly soft and smooth to the touch - not that you'll ever get close enough to find out.
| |||||||||
|
personality
| |||||||||
|
Tantrum is an extremely dependent male. On his own, his chances of survival are virtually nonexistent. He is incredibly introverted and terribly pessimistic. He tends to think the worst of himself, and he expects the worst from everyone and everything around him, all the while fully believing he deserves it. He has serious anxiety issues and is in almost constant fear. The dark, other males, being completely alone for all of his sad existence – these are the things that keep him awake. When he experiences emotions other than sadness or fear, Tantrum doesn’t really know how to deal with them. If he’s angry or even happy, he gets confused and works himself into a frenzy. He craves approval and beats himself senseless on the inside when he lets someone down. He fears they’ll abandon him, and he’ll be left utterly alone to fend for himself. Tantrum has trouble thinking for himself, constantly seeking the guidance of others, looking to them to make all his decisions for him. Tantrum’s extreme submissiveness makes him a danger to himself. He has the best intentions, only wanting to please others. But sometimes what pleases others isn’t what’s best for him. The male has found himself in several unpleasant, even dangerous situations throughout his short life. With a personality like his, this mutt’s days are numbered.
| |||||||||
|
history
| |||||||||
|
M-my past is a bit of a blur. It’s really hard to remember exactly when and where things happened, but I’ll fill in the blanks the best I can on the things that don’t come to me so clearly. It’s just that … I’ve been to so many different places, been through so many different types of cruelty. It makes it hard to recall anything. I had a family once, if you could really call them that. My mother died after giving birth to my siblings and myself. She died while birthing me. The problems didn’t start until I came into the world, so my father blamed me. He convinced my siblings that it was my fault too. It’s pretty hard to be hated by your own blood. But they were right, I guess. If I’d never come along, my mother would’ve made it. So I don’t blame them for being mad.
Up until I was about seven months old, I was with my father and siblings and our pack. They all despised me, and I deserved it. But then something happened. We weren't at war. There were no feuds. Everything had been calm up until this pack of beasts showed up. These wolves - if that's what they actually were - they were so much bigger and stronger. My pack couldn’t hold them off. There was something wrong with them. They had the craziest look in their eyes. No matter how many times I’m shuffled around, no matter how much I endure – there isn’t a single thing that could make me forget their eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but all I saw staring back was death. Those monsters had no souls. I should’ve stayed to help. I should’ve fought with my pack. But I didn’t. I ran and hid. I was only a pup. What else was I supposed to do? That doesn’t justify letting them all die or not dying with them. I should've tried to help. But I didn't. That was my choice, and it’s the one I live with. There were bushes, and I was just small enough to fit under them. No one could see me. I thought they couldn’t. I watched my pack being slaughtered. I cried. I whimpered under the cover of the shrieks and snarls. After a while, I just couldn’t watch. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sounds of the screaming. I don’t know if anyone else survived. I imagine not. All I know is that when I opened my eyes again, I saw blood. Not all the blood on the corpses, not the all the blood on the grass and tree trunks. No. This blood stained a pair of particularly large canines, situated in a mouth that happened to be curved into the most demented smile I’ve ever seen. That smile, and those fangs, belonged to a rather large male. I can’t remember his name, but I know that my time with him was horrendous and everything after that has only been worse. Since then, I’ve been shuffled between different males, different packs, different lives. When I end up on my own, I consider it a small blessing and hope for the mercy of death. So far, my prayers for an end to this hell have gone unanswered. I'm always found and captured. Freedom is always short for me. But I’m on my own now. Maybe things will be different this time. Or maybe they'll turn out exactly the same.
| |||||||||
| Sister Sites |
 |
| Affiliates |
|