Icadyptes of the Ever Ice
| Last Details | |
|---|---|
| Death Age | 7 years 8 months (Elder) |
| Sex | Male |
| Personality | Humble |
| Breeding Records | |
|---|---|
| Death Age in Rollovers | 184 |
| Pups Bred | 335 pups bred |
| Looks | |
|---|---|
| Base | Striped Flint (0.11%) |
| Base Genetics | Monochrome Medium III |
| Eyes | Smoke |
| Skin | Black |
| Nose | Black |
| Claws | Black |
| Mutation | None |
| Secondary Mutation | None |
| Carrier Status | View Report |
| Variant | Default |
| Markings | |
|---|---|
| Slot 1 | Honey Tamaskan Unders (41%) |
| Slot 2 | White Tamaskan Unders (35%) |
| Slot 3 | Annwn Manicou (100%) |
| Slot 4 | White Blaze (100%) |
| Slot 5 | Clover Ornate Stripes (100%) |
| Slot 6 | Gray Tamaskan Unders (1%) |
| Slot 7 | Brown Merle Patches (3%) |
| Slot 8 | White Carnage (100%) |
| Slot 9 | Black Wraith (80%) |
| Slot 10 | Black Wings (50%) |
| Birth Stats | ||
|---|---|---|
| Strength | Speed | Agility |
| Unknown | Unknown | Unknown |
| Wisdom | Smarts | Total |
| Unknown | Unknown | Unknown |
| Birth Information | |
|---|---|
| Moon | Unknown |
| Season | Unknown |
| Biome | Unknown |
Biography
She came up from the river.
That's all they remember, really. One day she wasn't there, and the next she was- to most of the pack, at least.
Bateleur, far-traveler, speaker of the land of little sun, remembers something much, much different. Remembers how she'd seen the dark shape in the water along her travels, darting below the waves, proud and terrible enough to turn her breath to ice. Remembers how she'd spoken to a wolf so cold and frozen she practically hadn't been there at all.
They'd quite nearly courted her, once, brought her into the pack to hunt alongside them, to run and run and kill until their chests were heaving and their gaping maws were stained with blood.
"It is too warm," Icadyptes had said, "I cannot stay here."
They did not understand. back then. They did not understand the way she knows the ice and cold. It had been cold, there, beneath the massive trees that reached for the skies with hungry, greedy claws. It had been cold, but on some days, when the sun had reached between the boughs, it had warmed their bones so deeply, and for once, despite the chill, they could breathe with ease.
It had been too warm for her, then. The heat of the sun had itched and burned, and she had left, a forlorn look on her face, for colder lands, traveling far until she felt the chill in her bones once again.
Bateleur, older now, had looked to the storms on the horizon and the approaching heat from the south. She raised herself up and set out north.
They of the half-light had not understood, then, but they had known that there were more wolves on their way north, and to feed themselves, they would need to move north in turn.
It was on the sixth day that they saw the shape in the water.
They had heard rumors from some of the hunters- of course they had. Myadestes, growing old but still sharp of wit and mind, had seen the creature before. They'd thought her simply afraid of her shadow- her mothers had raised her on stories of wolves that went missing in the shadows, tales to warn her of their own experience with creatures that lurked in the night. They had assumed that with lights on the horizon once again, she had simply begun seeing enemies in every corner, creatures lurking in every shadow.
It was on the sixth day in this new place- this colder place- that the traveler arrived.
She was a she-wolf, one the older members of the pack remembered well, despite her short time with them. Bateleur had aged a tenth of her life. The newcomer hadn't aged a day.
Even so, they invited her in, less wary of an odd wolf with a strange accent than the shadows and lights dancing across their borders.
That was when the sightings began in earnest.
At first, she hadn't joined the Hunt, too exhausted from her travels to do anything other than entertain the pups that wrestled through the dens.
But when she did… she had a tendency to go missing. Not for long, of course, not long enough to frighten the rest of those that ran with her, but… enough to be suspicious.
It was the fish that made them understand.
Every time they waded through the cold, salty water of the river delta, the fish would surge towards them, leaping from the water like the little insects Myadestes had said swarmed the plains they used to live in, back in her grandmother's day. For a while, they saw this as an annoyance, a distraction from the hunt, but the fish filled their bellies and the catch was easy, and as the frigid, biting chill of winter gave way to the faint, far away warmth of early spring, they could not help but see it as a blessing.
It was Tanager who first saw the shape in the water. They had been too focused on the bounty to consider just what the fish had been fleeing, but Tanager saw it, and in her wild little heart, she new it was not a threat, despite its size, despite its speed, despite the sharpness of its snout.
Perhaps that is why it followed her team more than any other- she did not fear it.
It was Inguza, though, who noticed the weariness in the shoulders of Icadyptes, the newcomer, the traveler from afar. It was Inguza who was suspicious of their newfound bounty, of the coldness in the creature's eyes and the freezing air that blew off of the water below.
It was Inguza who followed the dark shape out one frigid night, tracking it from the shoreline with wary eyes. It was Inguza who saw it haul itself out of the night-dark water, made silvery in the light of the moon.
It was a monster, plain and simple- the size of a two-legger with the face of a gannet, a long, heavy, sleek body, and stubby, useless wings. With a start, Inguza realized that somehow, somewhere, this beast was supposed to be a bird.
They knew birds, in the Half-Light Pack- new them better than anything else. They watched them carefully, winged protectors from spirits dark and evil. They gave their young names for the creatures, if they'd earned the honor- for birds both living and dead.
This was nothing like any bird Inguza had ever seen.
And then… it changed.
It was not the smooth, even change of a face stealer. No, this was far different- it was as if the skin just below its long bill had split, and something else was ripping though the feathers. The bird tipped forwards, as if to rest itself upon its stomach, and the skin… tore.
With a great ripping sound, the skin burst. Expecting rot, for some reason she couldn't understand, Inguza braced herself to vomit, but the smell never came. Instead, the breeze from the water smelled of salt, mist, fish, dry fur, and... something familiar.
The skin, empty now, did not fall to the ground discarded beside the figure Inguza slowly began to realize was a wolf. Instead, it sort of... faded, sinking into a deep darkness that coated the stranger's fur in stripes and smudges. Inguza stepped forwards in hope of a better look, and her paw came down firmly upon a stick.
It was wet, where they were, and the stick was likely driftwood brought in by the sea, but it still found a way to crack under her paw. The sound rattled through the little cove like the crack of thunder, and the stranger's eyes jerked up to meet Inguza's.
She knew that face.
She knew those smoky eyes, as if they can See something she has no hope of spotting. She knew those dark marks, like the hollow parts of an old, neglected skull left out to dry until the wind and the little creatures across the plains had stripped every last piece of meat and blood away from it and it gleamed under the moon like a pale white tooth. She knew that thick white fur, knew it would still be cold to the touch despite how thick and warm it appeared to be.
She knew this wolf.
Icadyptes must have spied her recognition, for the fog that seems to stream from the spirit's- for that is what she must have been, no normal wolf can do anything of the sort- fur grows thicker, and she backpedaled towards the water, shooting it looks that Inguza could only describe as longing.
This is where they will lose her. This, Inguza knew. She must have feared discovery, with all this word of spirits flying through the air. She must have thought they would accuse her of taking pups, of taking grown wolves with her into the sea.
Inguza knew she was not responsible. She knew the pack would not think Icadyptes responsible, either, but she will not make her stay if she must go. It would be cruel, and the thought of it sat terribly in Inguza's stomach.
Yet still, she took a step forwards.
"Wait!" she called out into the night. Icadyptes paused for one silent moment, and Inguza hurried, the sand flying into the air in clumps under her speed. She reached Icadyptes after only a few seconds, and pauses to take a breath.
"Wait," she said again, "Please."
Icadyptes stared at her, clearly uneasy, but motioned for her to go on.
"You're a benign spirit, yes?" Inguza asked, "You've been helping us. I... you don't need to go. None of us will make you."
"You fear what you do not understand," Icadyptes said plainly, the first thing she's said in days. Inguza shook her head.
"We fear the lights on the edges of the borders. We fear wolves going missing in the shadows. We do not fear full bellies and too-cold fur and the smell of salt in the air. We will not force you to stay, but... we will not force you to leave, even if you're not quite like the rest of us."
Inguza paused, for a moment, and then turned to leave. This was a decision Icadyptes must make on her own- she did not force her either way.
-
In an icy territory so far north that the sun hardly shines in winter, there is a beast in the water.
It is a familiar kind of beast, one well-known by the wolves that race around it. It is far quicker in the water than it ever is upon land, but its companions do not mind this- they enjoy the full bellies it provides for them regardless, even if it does mean they smell of salt. It is a stalwart protector, a creature that straddles more than simply a single world, and it is rather adept at chasing out lights when it can find them.
In an icy territory so far north that the sun hardly sets in summer, there is a beast upon the land.
She is smoky-gazed and sharp-eyed, and her fur is as cold as snow in winter, but she is clever and quick, and knows the rivers like she's swum every last one of them.
Some say the beasts are wholly different. Some say that there is no beast at all.
To the wolves of the Half-Light Pack, there is only one thing of any real importance:
The beast is loved.
-
Named for one of the largest penguins to ever live, Icadyptes may not be able to fly- but that doesn't mean she isn't fast!
Starting stats:
Strength 41
Speed 38
Agility 41
Wisdom 37
Smarts 40
Total 197
Decors: Legendary Fur Coat [Snow] originally worn by GEOPELIA, former leaderboard chaser
Weather: Gentle Breeze (Dark) originally worn by CATEGORY, former leaderboard stalker
Winter Ghost, originally worn by COLUMBINA, mate of leaderboards lead ZENAIDA
https://www.wolvden.com/wardrobe/5124907?eyJ2IjoiZGVmYXVsdCIsImIiOiI1MCIsImUiOiIyNiIsIm4iOiIxIiwiYyI6IjUiLCJzIjoiMyIsImsiOjAsIngiOltudWxsLCIiLCIiLCJBbm53biBNYW5pY291IiwiV2hpdGUgQmxhemUiLCJDbG92ZXIgT3JuYXRlIFN0cmlwZXMiLCJXaGl0ZSBCb3R0b21zIiwiQnJvd24gTWVybGUgUGF0Y2hlcyIsIldoaXRlIENhcm5hZ2UiLCJCbGFjayBXcmFpdGgiLCJCbGFjayBXaW5ncyJdLCJvIjpbbnVsbCwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMzUiLCIzMSIsIjEwMCIsIjgwIiwiNTAiXSwiZCI6W251bGwsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiJdLCJhIjoiMjQiLCJtIjoiIn0.
notable pups:
- G2 Novus Flint
- G2 Novus Chromium
- G2 Dust Flint
- G3 Dust Flint
- G3 Smoke Teardrop
That's all they remember, really. One day she wasn't there, and the next she was- to most of the pack, at least.
Bateleur, far-traveler, speaker of the land of little sun, remembers something much, much different. Remembers how she'd seen the dark shape in the water along her travels, darting below the waves, proud and terrible enough to turn her breath to ice. Remembers how she'd spoken to a wolf so cold and frozen she practically hadn't been there at all.
They'd quite nearly courted her, once, brought her into the pack to hunt alongside them, to run and run and kill until their chests were heaving and their gaping maws were stained with blood.
"It is too warm," Icadyptes had said, "I cannot stay here."
They did not understand. back then. They did not understand the way she knows the ice and cold. It had been cold, there, beneath the massive trees that reached for the skies with hungry, greedy claws. It had been cold, but on some days, when the sun had reached between the boughs, it had warmed their bones so deeply, and for once, despite the chill, they could breathe with ease.
It had been too warm for her, then. The heat of the sun had itched and burned, and she had left, a forlorn look on her face, for colder lands, traveling far until she felt the chill in her bones once again.
Bateleur, older now, had looked to the storms on the horizon and the approaching heat from the south. She raised herself up and set out north.
They of the half-light had not understood, then, but they had known that there were more wolves on their way north, and to feed themselves, they would need to move north in turn.
It was on the sixth day that they saw the shape in the water.
They had heard rumors from some of the hunters- of course they had. Myadestes, growing old but still sharp of wit and mind, had seen the creature before. They'd thought her simply afraid of her shadow- her mothers had raised her on stories of wolves that went missing in the shadows, tales to warn her of their own experience with creatures that lurked in the night. They had assumed that with lights on the horizon once again, she had simply begun seeing enemies in every corner, creatures lurking in every shadow.
It was on the sixth day in this new place- this colder place- that the traveler arrived.
She was a she-wolf, one the older members of the pack remembered well, despite her short time with them. Bateleur had aged a tenth of her life. The newcomer hadn't aged a day.
Even so, they invited her in, less wary of an odd wolf with a strange accent than the shadows and lights dancing across their borders.
That was when the sightings began in earnest.
At first, she hadn't joined the Hunt, too exhausted from her travels to do anything other than entertain the pups that wrestled through the dens.
But when she did… she had a tendency to go missing. Not for long, of course, not long enough to frighten the rest of those that ran with her, but… enough to be suspicious.
It was the fish that made them understand.
Every time they waded through the cold, salty water of the river delta, the fish would surge towards them, leaping from the water like the little insects Myadestes had said swarmed the plains they used to live in, back in her grandmother's day. For a while, they saw this as an annoyance, a distraction from the hunt, but the fish filled their bellies and the catch was easy, and as the frigid, biting chill of winter gave way to the faint, far away warmth of early spring, they could not help but see it as a blessing.
It was Tanager who first saw the shape in the water. They had been too focused on the bounty to consider just what the fish had been fleeing, but Tanager saw it, and in her wild little heart, she new it was not a threat, despite its size, despite its speed, despite the sharpness of its snout.
Perhaps that is why it followed her team more than any other- she did not fear it.
It was Inguza, though, who noticed the weariness in the shoulders of Icadyptes, the newcomer, the traveler from afar. It was Inguza who was suspicious of their newfound bounty, of the coldness in the creature's eyes and the freezing air that blew off of the water below.
It was Inguza who followed the dark shape out one frigid night, tracking it from the shoreline with wary eyes. It was Inguza who saw it haul itself out of the night-dark water, made silvery in the light of the moon.
It was a monster, plain and simple- the size of a two-legger with the face of a gannet, a long, heavy, sleek body, and stubby, useless wings. With a start, Inguza realized that somehow, somewhere, this beast was supposed to be a bird.
They knew birds, in the Half-Light Pack- new them better than anything else. They watched them carefully, winged protectors from spirits dark and evil. They gave their young names for the creatures, if they'd earned the honor- for birds both living and dead.
This was nothing like any bird Inguza had ever seen.
And then… it changed.
It was not the smooth, even change of a face stealer. No, this was far different- it was as if the skin just below its long bill had split, and something else was ripping though the feathers. The bird tipped forwards, as if to rest itself upon its stomach, and the skin… tore.
With a great ripping sound, the skin burst. Expecting rot, for some reason she couldn't understand, Inguza braced herself to vomit, but the smell never came. Instead, the breeze from the water smelled of salt, mist, fish, dry fur, and... something familiar.
The skin, empty now, did not fall to the ground discarded beside the figure Inguza slowly began to realize was a wolf. Instead, it sort of... faded, sinking into a deep darkness that coated the stranger's fur in stripes and smudges. Inguza stepped forwards in hope of a better look, and her paw came down firmly upon a stick.
It was wet, where they were, and the stick was likely driftwood brought in by the sea, but it still found a way to crack under her paw. The sound rattled through the little cove like the crack of thunder, and the stranger's eyes jerked up to meet Inguza's.
She knew that face.
She knew those smoky eyes, as if they can See something she has no hope of spotting. She knew those dark marks, like the hollow parts of an old, neglected skull left out to dry until the wind and the little creatures across the plains had stripped every last piece of meat and blood away from it and it gleamed under the moon like a pale white tooth. She knew that thick white fur, knew it would still be cold to the touch despite how thick and warm it appeared to be.
She knew this wolf.
Icadyptes must have spied her recognition, for the fog that seems to stream from the spirit's- for that is what she must have been, no normal wolf can do anything of the sort- fur grows thicker, and she backpedaled towards the water, shooting it looks that Inguza could only describe as longing.
This is where they will lose her. This, Inguza knew. She must have feared discovery, with all this word of spirits flying through the air. She must have thought they would accuse her of taking pups, of taking grown wolves with her into the sea.
Inguza knew she was not responsible. She knew the pack would not think Icadyptes responsible, either, but she will not make her stay if she must go. It would be cruel, and the thought of it sat terribly in Inguza's stomach.
Yet still, she took a step forwards.
"Wait!" she called out into the night. Icadyptes paused for one silent moment, and Inguza hurried, the sand flying into the air in clumps under her speed. She reached Icadyptes after only a few seconds, and pauses to take a breath.
"Wait," she said again, "Please."
Icadyptes stared at her, clearly uneasy, but motioned for her to go on.
"You're a benign spirit, yes?" Inguza asked, "You've been helping us. I... you don't need to go. None of us will make you."
"You fear what you do not understand," Icadyptes said plainly, the first thing she's said in days. Inguza shook her head.
"We fear the lights on the edges of the borders. We fear wolves going missing in the shadows. We do not fear full bellies and too-cold fur and the smell of salt in the air. We will not force you to stay, but... we will not force you to leave, even if you're not quite like the rest of us."
Inguza paused, for a moment, and then turned to leave. This was a decision Icadyptes must make on her own- she did not force her either way.
-
In an icy territory so far north that the sun hardly shines in winter, there is a beast in the water.
It is a familiar kind of beast, one well-known by the wolves that race around it. It is far quicker in the water than it ever is upon land, but its companions do not mind this- they enjoy the full bellies it provides for them regardless, even if it does mean they smell of salt. It is a stalwart protector, a creature that straddles more than simply a single world, and it is rather adept at chasing out lights when it can find them.
In an icy territory so far north that the sun hardly sets in summer, there is a beast upon the land.
She is smoky-gazed and sharp-eyed, and her fur is as cold as snow in winter, but she is clever and quick, and knows the rivers like she's swum every last one of them.
Some say the beasts are wholly different. Some say that there is no beast at all.
To the wolves of the Half-Light Pack, there is only one thing of any real importance:
The beast is loved.
-
Named for one of the largest penguins to ever live, Icadyptes may not be able to fly- but that doesn't mean she isn't fast!
Starting stats:
Strength 41
Speed 38
Agility 41
Wisdom 37
Smarts 40
Total 197
Decors: Legendary Fur Coat [Snow] originally worn by GEOPELIA, former leaderboard chaser
Weather: Gentle Breeze (Dark) originally worn by CATEGORY, former leaderboard stalker
Winter Ghost, originally worn by COLUMBINA, mate of leaderboards lead ZENAIDA
https://www.wolvden.com/wardrobe/5124907?eyJ2IjoiZGVmYXVsdCIsImIiOiI1MCIsImUiOiIyNiIsIm4iOiIxIiwiYyI6IjUiLCJzIjoiMyIsImsiOjAsIngiOltudWxsLCIiLCIiLCJBbm53biBNYW5pY291IiwiV2hpdGUgQmxhemUiLCJDbG92ZXIgT3JuYXRlIFN0cmlwZXMiLCJXaGl0ZSBCb3R0b21zIiwiQnJvd24gTWVybGUgUGF0Y2hlcyIsIldoaXRlIENhcm5hZ2UiLCJCbGFjayBXcmFpdGgiLCJCbGFjayBXaW5ncyJdLCJvIjpbbnVsbCwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMTAwIiwiMzUiLCIzMSIsIjEwMCIsIjgwIiwiNTAiXSwiZCI6W251bGwsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiIsIiJdLCJhIjoiMjQiLCJtIjoiIn0.
notable pups:
- G2 Novus Flint
- G2 Novus Chromium
- G2 Dust Flint
- G3 Dust Flint
- G3 Smoke Teardrop
| Decorations and Background |
|---|
Background
Cold Cave2 uses left
Decorations
Above
None equipped!
Below
None equipped!