Post by Balthazar on Apr 19, 2006 12:20:38 GMT -5
Name
Balthazar
Age
Three Years
Breed
Siberian Husky
Appearance
Balthazar is a very large dog, towering over most males his age. His coat is sleek, pitch black for the most part, but white clings to his muzzle and belly. His body is broad, built for strength and force, and his paws are enormous. He sports remarkably pale blue eyes, the fur on his tails drips down in a delicate white. He is a beautiful dog.
Personality
Balthazar tends to be very quiet. He doesn't find conversation very helpful in most instances, since much of the time it's just something to fill the air. In a conversation, others may find themselves uncomfortable with long silences, but Balthazar hardly notices. He communicates when he has to, and little more than that.
He's a loner. He has been with a few packs in the past, but found their leaders foolish and inept. He is a good hunter, so doesn't need a pack to help support him. He doesn't have a home; Balthazar more enjoys wandering around, sleeping where he wants, eating when he pleases. He's taken a few mates in the past, but none of them lasted long, which was fine by him. He usually can't connect with other dogs. He makes them uncomfortable.
Though you wouldn't know it by how quiet he is, Balthazar is very opinionated. He picks a side and he stays with it. He's not prone to second-guessing himself or regretting his decisions.
Balthazar doesn't really understand the concept of "wit." Though he is clever and resourceful, a word fight would leave him staring stonily at his opponent, thinking, Are we going to fight, or what? Though he could easily think up some kind of insulting retort, he finds no use for it, because to him, words never hurt at all.
Any kind of emotional situation leaves him at a loss. The whole comforting thing just passes him right by. A dog in an emotional state makes him uncomfortable and awkward. Perhaps this is because he can't relate. He's never really had any sort of emotional pain. His family are all alive, he's never had his heart broken, and he doesn't get lonely.
Sample Post
It was night. A clear night, but not bright, for hardly a sliver of the moon was visible. A few nights before, it had been gone completely, leaving the sky seemingly empty, with only tiny pinpricks in the distance for light. The moon was waxing now. And tomorrow night, there would by enough light to hunt by sight alone.
Not that Balthazar needed to see to hunt.
Broad paws pressed silently into the ground, a light print the only evidence of Bathazar's passing. You would think his paw steps would make at least a quiet crunch in the newly-fallen snow; but there was not a whisper of sound following the great, black and white creature. The wind stirred dark fur on his back and spun some of the dusty snow too meet his face. Pausing for a moment, he shook his broad head, blinking the whiteness out os his piercing blue eyes.
Balthazar walked aimlessly. He had no clear idea where he was headed, and nor did he care. He simply wandered, maybe in search of food, or somewhere to sleep. Probably the former, because he was not tired at all. He lived for the night time. The darkness, the quiet, the peace the trembled with hidden energy-- it woke him completely, and made him wonder how anyone could sleep this time away.
He was in a narrow alley, padding along in the darkness at a brisk pace. Though he was going fairly fast, there was something relaxed about him. He was taking his time. He would pause every so often to sniff some garbage in a corner, or lap at some of the soft snow for water, or even sit down for a few long moments, simply letting the soft liver of moonlight wash over him.
This was living.
Now, if only he could find some food...
Balthazar
Age
Three Years
Breed
Siberian Husky
Appearance
Balthazar is a very large dog, towering over most males his age. His coat is sleek, pitch black for the most part, but white clings to his muzzle and belly. His body is broad, built for strength and force, and his paws are enormous. He sports remarkably pale blue eyes, the fur on his tails drips down in a delicate white. He is a beautiful dog.
Personality
Balthazar tends to be very quiet. He doesn't find conversation very helpful in most instances, since much of the time it's just something to fill the air. In a conversation, others may find themselves uncomfortable with long silences, but Balthazar hardly notices. He communicates when he has to, and little more than that.
He's a loner. He has been with a few packs in the past, but found their leaders foolish and inept. He is a good hunter, so doesn't need a pack to help support him. He doesn't have a home; Balthazar more enjoys wandering around, sleeping where he wants, eating when he pleases. He's taken a few mates in the past, but none of them lasted long, which was fine by him. He usually can't connect with other dogs. He makes them uncomfortable.
Though you wouldn't know it by how quiet he is, Balthazar is very opinionated. He picks a side and he stays with it. He's not prone to second-guessing himself or regretting his decisions.
Balthazar doesn't really understand the concept of "wit." Though he is clever and resourceful, a word fight would leave him staring stonily at his opponent, thinking, Are we going to fight, or what? Though he could easily think up some kind of insulting retort, he finds no use for it, because to him, words never hurt at all.
Any kind of emotional situation leaves him at a loss. The whole comforting thing just passes him right by. A dog in an emotional state makes him uncomfortable and awkward. Perhaps this is because he can't relate. He's never really had any sort of emotional pain. His family are all alive, he's never had his heart broken, and he doesn't get lonely.
Sample Post
It was night. A clear night, but not bright, for hardly a sliver of the moon was visible. A few nights before, it had been gone completely, leaving the sky seemingly empty, with only tiny pinpricks in the distance for light. The moon was waxing now. And tomorrow night, there would by enough light to hunt by sight alone.
Not that Balthazar needed to see to hunt.
Broad paws pressed silently into the ground, a light print the only evidence of Bathazar's passing. You would think his paw steps would make at least a quiet crunch in the newly-fallen snow; but there was not a whisper of sound following the great, black and white creature. The wind stirred dark fur on his back and spun some of the dusty snow too meet his face. Pausing for a moment, he shook his broad head, blinking the whiteness out os his piercing blue eyes.
Balthazar walked aimlessly. He had no clear idea where he was headed, and nor did he care. He simply wandered, maybe in search of food, or somewhere to sleep. Probably the former, because he was not tired at all. He lived for the night time. The darkness, the quiet, the peace the trembled with hidden energy-- it woke him completely, and made him wonder how anyone could sleep this time away.
He was in a narrow alley, padding along in the darkness at a brisk pace. Though he was going fairly fast, there was something relaxed about him. He was taking his time. He would pause every so often to sniff some garbage in a corner, or lap at some of the soft snow for water, or even sit down for a few long moments, simply letting the soft liver of moonlight wash over him.
This was living.
Now, if only he could find some food...