Post by Santana on Nov 5, 2011 20:22:54 GMT -5
Name;; Santana.
Age;; One year, six months.
Gender;; Female.
Breed;; African Lion.
Pride;; None.
Position;; Loner.
Height;; 2.7 ft.
Weight:: 190 lbs.
Appearance;;
Santana is very lithe, with an agile physique and a body made for running. Her pelt is a gold tawny color, with darker and lighter patches that fade well into her coat. Her eyes are a deep amber color, and are almond shaped. Her nose is triangle-shaped, as most lion's noses are. Her ears are rounded, and usually swivel around, back and forth as a habit when she is either nervous or feeling mischievous. She's rather normally sized for her age, smaller than males, yet she blends in well with lions her age. She has nearly no scars, just a bite mark on her tail from an accident as a cub. The fur is gone in that spot from an infection and there are three light pink spots where the skin has healed over. It's only a minor flaw in Santana's mind, though. She is graceful and can walk on white coals while still being as smooth as silk, metaphorically.
Personality;;
Quiet: She doesn't normally speak to other cats, only on occasion starting up conversation. Her greeting is usually a nod, rarely an introduction. She will often start trembling because she doesn't know what to say or how to say it.
Different: All she wants is to fit in with a group. She is odd and thinks differently than normal lions do. She knows she's different from others, and tries to get herself to believe that she should embrace her difference, but she never really thinks of it as a good thing.
Charming: If you actually do get close enough to her, you can actually see how charming and graceful, and just the beauty that radiates off of her. She doesn't see it herself, and it will take a while to convince her that she is - but it's probably the first thing you notice.
Selfless: She'll save a stranger's life, just because she thinks it's nice to do good. She normally doesn't stick around, and walks off, leaving you confused and wondering why she did it.
Background: She doesn't like being the center of attention and hates being watched by all eyes. Anything that pertains to being in the middle of attention will be avoided, though sometimes she just winds up in it anyway.
Emotionless: At first, she will seem very blunt and lifeless, like a black-and-white picture. She won't show the emotions she feels, and it's hard to see how she feels. Often she is extremely hurt, and no one will notice unless they see the wound because she hides her emotions so well.
History;;
Meh, My muse faded. Will add when it returns.
Other;;
Your Name;; Santana
Other Characters;; None.
Roleplaying Experience;; Err, 2-3 years...
Sample;;
One of my good muse posts...Have you ever felt silk? The soft, luscious fabric, the kind that no one can afford? That's what I feel underneath my paws when I'm on the beach. It feels so comforting, it's such a nice feeling. I had never felt so warm in my life. My tough shell just melted away - I became the pup I was just four short years ago.
I lumber down the long, spotless, untouched beach, head low and tail tucked between my hind legs. I sniff the sand occasionally, but I'm not looking for anything. I just want to look like I'm looking for something, so no one would bother me. This method has worked for me several times, it wards off others, they think I'm not to be pestered. I doubt anybody is on the beach with me. I sigh, and find a good, especially soft spot in the sand and sit down on my haunches. The sun is just beginning to set, slowly making it's way into the water. My mother always told me it hid in the ocean so the night creatures wouldn't find it, but it moved slowly because it wanted to shine as long as possible. I always believed my mother, and I would never listen to anything different.
My eyes narrow, then widen again. My eyesight blurs and sharpens with it. My ears flick forward, then pull back. I try to experience everything that the water and waves had to say. They would whisper, then crash into a loud scream. They seemed to tell me their life story, how the underwater volcanoes angered them, making them grow into large, uncontrollable waves, sucking everything in it's path back with them. They told of the oil patches that floated leisurely across their surfaces, and how they simply would not mix into the water. I smile as the waves warmly reach up to my front paws and then pull back slowly, luring me closer and closer to the deep blue ocean.
My fur becomes deeply drenched as I stand up and walk into the leg-deep water. The sand here is dense and thick, swirling and writhing underneath my paws. The refreshing salt water reaches past me, then wraps around me and tugs me out. I hold my ground, though, and began to walk backwards towards the shore. The water begs me not to go, but I must - I make my way out of the sea and sit on the sand. My chest, stomach, and legs are soaked, and I decide to sit on the beach for a while to dry out. A bright flash of the horizon and a fading, blinding white light forces me to squeeze my eyes shut. When I open my eyes, all is dark, the sky is a deep navy blue. The sun only peeks its fiery head out of the ocean, providing enough light just for me to see. I bow my head to the star in respect, absentmindedly speaking to it.
"Goodnight, sun. I will be here tomorrow, I promise. Please be here when I wake up, because then, all of my kind will be blind. None of us can live without you. Those other dogs, they are ungrateful. They do not appreciate you. But me, I do. I cherish your light, your fiery temper - it fascinates me."
I end my rambling, hoping the sun has heard me. I've been talking to the sun a lot recently, the moon, too. They understand me the most, they watched me suffer as my parents were killed by the raiding gang of larger dogs. They watched me run from the band, watched me hide in alleys and live off of dumpster scraps. Most of them weren't even edible. All of it seemed so clear to me, all of it seemed so recent. Four years ago, if we hadn't made our home in that particular building, I wouldn't be who I am now. I wouldn't have to fend for myself, I would be vulnerable. And for that I am grateful for my parents: they died to protect me. They died to help me keep myself safe, they taught me how to live off of me and my surroundings. I dive deep into my past, zoning off from the rest of the world as if nothing exists.
And then the night begins - all is quiet, the sandy beach becomes an eerie stretch of never ending darkness. I ponder on whether to swim back to anything island or stay the night here in the cave. But before I could even take another breath I feel the vibrations of another mammal's footsteps. I raise my head to see a silhouette, and my instincts say to run, but lately, I can't trust myself too often. I stand on all four of my paws and growl, lowering my head defensively.
