Pluto, the Planet | ♏

"My pride and joy 🤭"

ID #6312399

Owned by 🌱Sealife/Angel🌱
Bred by Unknown
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This wolf is immortal! It will never age or die. It cannot be bred or used in roles, or retired into.
This wolf has not rolled over today and will not be able to be traded or gifted until its next rollover.

Level	20

Strength	215
Speed	172
Agility	151
Wisdom	137
Smarts	164
Total	839

This wolf cannot be retired right now!

Family

Wardrobe

Currents
Sex	Male
Personality	Aloof

Breeding Information
Pups Bred	1698 pups bred

Looks
Base	Badger (0.44%)
Base Genetics	Muted Medium III
Eyes	Saros
Skin	Fey
Nose	Apollo
Claws	Fey
Mutation	None
Secondary Mutation	Piebald: Uneven
Carrier Status	View Report
Variant	Relaxed

Markings
Slot 1	Annwn Manicou (100% : T3)
Slot 2	White Predator (75% : T1)
Slot 3	Beige Inuit Unders (28% : T7)
Slot 4	Moss Cross (100% : T3)
Slot 5	Clover Lupos (100% : T3)
Slot 6	White Wraith (100% : T3)
Slot 7	White Ghast (100% : T3)
Slot 8	Black Rump Stripe (79% : T1)
Slot 9	Black Agouti (100% : T0)
Slot 10	Dark Brown Merle Patches (23% : T2)

Biography

🥧 Any Pronouns 🥧
🥧 Pluto is a planet. 🥧
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^ 6/13/23

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In the heart of the twilight-drenched forests, where ancient trees stood as sentinels and the chorus of night creatures composed symphonies of hidden wonders, there resided a legend incarnate – Pluto, the piebald paragon. His existence was a living sonnet, a lyrical testament to the mysteries of the wild, his coat a chiaroscuro masterpiece that rendered him as a creature woven from the very fabric of the moonlit night. Each fur strand, silvery white and ink-dark black, bore the weight of countless ancestors, their spirits seemingly woven into his pelt, creating a mosaic that glistened under the ethereal glow of the celestial spheres.

Pluto's origin story was very much indeed mixed with the fabled lore of his lineage, a whole lineage of noble ancestors whose howls resonated with the echoes of time and the tears of the stars from bygone days and times. Among these illustrious forebears, Pluto was a luminary, a wolf whose presence evoked awe and reverence. From his earliest days, the pack knew he was destined for greatness, for his fur, marked by the rare piebald mutation, was a divine tapestry that set him apart. He was not just a member of the pack; he was a living relic, a link between the storied past and the enigmatic future.

And his long awaited birth was no ordinary affair; it was a struggle, a battle of life and death that played out under the shroud of night. Oh how his mother was wracked with pains and hurt as she tried to bring him into the realm. Pluto, even before birth, seemed to possess an innate sense of destiny. He resisted the world's call, clinging to the safety of his mother's womb as if he sensed the magnitude of his existence. It was a defiance, a refusal to enter the world on anything but his own terms. The rest of his littermates were out and crying and suckling, but not him. Not him.. why not him?

And then, in a moment that felt suspended in time, he emerged. His arrival was not heralded by cries of joy but by stunned silence. The pack, expecting a frail creature given the difficulty of his birth, was met with a sight that left them awestruck. His fur.. his fur! Look upon his fur! That was the cry of the elders. They recalled the olden tales. They knew what would soon await them now that the bundle was within their paws. How fortunate his dear mother was. When she observed him for the first time, her heart almost shattered in awe and adoration; her precious baby was here, and he would mean more to her than anything else in the whole forest and beyond.

Under the tutelage of his mother, Sealife, whose eyes held the ancient wisdom of the ages, Pluto learned the art of survival and the secrets of the wilderness. She nurtured his inquisitive spirit, encouraging him to explore the hidden corners of their territory, where emerald ferns carpeted the forest floor, and sunlight filtered through the dense canopy like liquid gold. It was during these explorations that Pluto's senses sharpened, attuning him to the subtlest whispers of nature – the rustle of leaves, the scent of distant rain, and the symphony of crickets that serenaded the night.

She taught Pluto to trust his instincts, to listen to the primal urges that pulsed through his veins. In the depths of the forest, they practiced calling out to the unforgotten stars, where the vibrations of their voices harmonized with the very soul of the earth. Through these rituals, Pluto learned to communicate not just with his pack but with the entire ecosystem around him, forging bonds that transcended the boundaries of species. He had his friends on earth, and perhaps, truly, even had a connection with the spirits running wild up above. It was something out of a myth! Yet the myth was real and everything was like.. almost a dream come true to the piebald sire.

And yes, the pressures grew from those who always revered him from birth, though he could never quite comprehend why that was becoming the regular and frequent case. Oftentimes he said little about such. But in truth! Oh in truth—They expected not just competence, but brilliance; not just leadership, but visionary guidance. So what was he to do? Still trust the paws that wove his path, naturally. That was his saga that he had to accept, but he always wondered why and how he could do so. His curious mind never exactly released the thought nor let it ever perish underneath the waves of what was becoming more and more common and mundane to Pluto.

Each night, he would retreat to the ancient groves, seeking solace among the whispering leaves and the high skies. As he grew and as that continued, one nightly adventure led him to meet someone. Pluto's path crossed with that of Vrýo, a wolf whose grace and wild mirrored his own. Pluto spoke first with that well-off and strong, baying bark of his, his words weaving through the night air like threads of stardust. He was charmed, almost stopping his speech until he could resume its structure. "There's a rare kind of wildness in your eyes, my good friend. What brings a spirit as untamed as yours to this corner of the wilderness?" To which the other just smirked, led the other along the trail, and their sudden dance began the further Pluto was charmed by golden silence. All until the other male finally cooed: "I have gotten to know the legend not just through his pelt, but through his heart as well. What a story that might make!"

It was love; the true kind of love. Their meeting was orchestrated by the deft and clever claws of fate, a cosmic dance that brought kindred souls together. Their courtship was a dance of moonlit rendezvous and shared hunts beneath the argent glow, gods how he loved that wolf! Together, they roamed the wilderness, navigating its challenges and embracing its splendors, their love story a ballad sung by the very stars that adorned the night sky. Oh yes, those stars howled back at them. They approved! As did his family. Really, when it came to love and hopes, Pluto's eyes had only ever been for his mate, the first and only wolf to steal his heart with quiet and wit.

Their outings were as diverse as the changing seasons. During the vibrant days of summer, they splashed in cool streams, the water's laughter harmonizing with their own. Under the golden hues of autumn, they chased after leaves carried away by playful gusts, their laughter mingling with the rustle of foliage. Winter nights saw them tracing constellations in the ink-black sky. And once spring kissed the land with flowers, the meadows were perfect for tumbling and dancing. When the pressures started to pluck at him, who better to turn to than the one that maintained the fullness inside of his great and loving heart? So be it!

When the time came for Pluto to assume his role as the pack's stud and leader, it came because of death. The death of another, the one whose place he would take and whose crown he would wear upon his dome, so that all the surrounding packs would know that a wolf who seemed too good to be true, was in fact, so very much in fact, now leader! And with elusive traits that had slipped the pelts and minds of even the greatest of canines. The pack, forever and always recognizing his extraordinary heritage and boundless potential, bestowed upon him the mantle of leadership. It was not a choice made lightly but one forged in the crucible of tradition and necessity. Pluto felt the weight of their expectations, the unspoken hopes of generations urging him to rise and fulfill his destiny.

Oh, and the pressure got to him too. It started to make dents and cracks in him, perhaps. It really felt like a lot now that he was within the paws of a leader. And he was said leader himself! He helmed the laws and the breedings. If anyone sought the exotic undertones and genes of his pelage and blood, he would give it to them in exchange for a sum of money. His power would be passed through guaranteed brood, a seed planted inside of every wolf who desired pups for whatever reason. And his mother was blessed with hundreds of grandchildren before her passing, and his family was astronomically large all of the sudden! Such was the results of his studding, of worrying for every pup that was born from him, hoping that they too could one day rise to the top if they so pleased.

With his mate and remaining family, he had to stow his worries and continue to upward climb and avoid any decline. Under his leadership, the pack flourished. His wisdom, gleaned from the teachings of his mother and the trials of the wild, guided them through harsh winters and bountiful summers alike. His decisions, tempered by the echoes of ancient howls and the counsel of the stars, led the pack to prosperity. That connection with everyone, living or dead, never wavered, thus he never wavered. An otherworldly balance was sustained. It was a job that looked like it'd need to be handled by many wolves, but only one wolf assumed the job; with support of course, but he took on the bulk of it. The boundaries of their territory expanded, encompassing fertile lands and pristine water sources, ensuring the well-being of his kith and kin. All were welcome to taste the generosity of Pluto the good.

As the seasons passed and the years etched their marks upon the landscape, Pluto, once a vibrant and spirited leader, grew older, his fur flecked with the silver of wisdom and experience. His steps, once swift and agile, now carried a deliberate pace, each movement marked by the grace of a seasoned elder. Yet, his eyes retained the fire of determination, a spark that refused to be extinguished by the passage of time. Every dawn found him at the edge of the territory, his keen eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. His senses, honed by a lifetime of experience, could detect the subtlest shifts in the wind, the distant howls of rival packs, and the faintest scent of intruders. He stood as the sentinel of his realm, a guardian whose vigilance knew no rest. He sure knew how to defend if need ever be! But he disliked getting into scuffles and always attempted to avoid them. He needn't send his kind into fights on his behalf. He'd always fight everyone's battles for everyone.

He negotiated territory disputes with a calm yet firm demeanor, finding solutions that avoided unnecessary conflicts. His wisdom and fairness earned him respect. From the searing and wet jungle all the way to the frosted and deadly glacier. He even made it up the charts! Literally. So literally. Words of utter glory went down the grapevine across every pack. The best of the best wolves, the greatest of their canine species, were renowned in such hierarchical ranking. It rarely changed. Few could ever topple those who were ranked accordingly based on what was told and what was seen. His name had become synonymous with strength and wisdom, and he had ascended to a high rank on the leaderboard. His old ears couldn't believe the news, but his mate knew it was a cause for celebration!

As he climbed the ranks, Pluto continued to be a stud, fathering litters of pups that carried the legacy of his lineage. Each new generation, with their bright eyes and curious hearts, brought both hope and worry to Pluto. He fretted over their well-being, knowing that the wilderness could be both a nurturing mother and a harsh teacher. His worries never truly vanished; instead, they evolved, transforming into a deep sense of responsibility for the future of his pack.

Thus, amidst the triumphs and challenges, Pluto remained humble, his heart forever rooted in the untamed wilderness that birthed him. In the quiet moments, when the world was hushed and the heavens painted with a canvas of stars, he would retreat to the ancient groves where he had once played as a pup and courted his beloved. There, beneath the canopy of leaves, he would listen to the songs of the wind, a melody that carried the voices of his ancestors. It was in these moments of solitude that he found solace, his soul intertwining with the very essence of the forest. Time and time again, year after year, even when he was not long for the world and his days were slowly numbered.

Nothing could ruin the splendor of his coat.. expect the wrinkles of time, but what did fate have to say about his duties as a stud, leader, and good wolf who had lived up to the legacies that could've felled others?

It happened on a dewy, cool spring day whilst the first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and pink, and dear Pluto felt a profound transformation coursing through his very being. It was as if the universe itself had embraced him, infusing his essence with an ethereal light. There was a tingle in his soul.. he couldn't describe it but he knew it was there, awakening from his sleep beside his mate and the others he shared a den with. But somehow, whatever the feeling was that he was overcome with, he seemed to understand it in the end. He allowed it to take him, to do what it pleased, because it felt light and it felt good. He became ageless, his fur as lustrous as the midnight sky, his eyes gleaming with the wisdom of the ages. He was no longer bound by the constraints of mortality, but instead, he was blessed with the ability to travel the stars and winds, exploring the glories that lay beyond the familiar horizons of his home.

It was a trick of the world's stars.

One day, his hundreds of pups, extended family, and his dearest would return to him.

Pluto's legacy echoed far beyond the borders of his territory. That much was certain! His tale, embellished with the richness of detail and woven with threads of love, leadership, and the boundless majesty of the natural world, became a parable whispered by storytellers across the realms. Each retelling added a new layer to the epic saga of the immortal piebald leader, a tale that transcended time and space, inspiring generations to come.

For really, a great leader deserves a great epic!
Written by #97149 [Their writing comms here!]

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Art!