08-12-2018, 01:11 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]This would be his first attempt at residing in, well, woodlands. Throughout his time of existence he realized that he had never really lived anywhere other than beneath the deserted shelter of some old human foundation. His birth home? The crumpled ruins of some temple. His first group? An abandoned desert military base (a personal favorite!). His second group? Whatever remained of a city that had no humans living inside of it. But here it was a forest, trees and nothing but trees. And an admittedly eerie one. It gave the Doberman the freaking chills to walk through this dark land, where the canopy of the trees blocked out the light of the sun altogether. It was very different than what he was used to. But he had trained himself to be adaptable and ready for anything. Living in the woods should be a breeze. Hell, there was even a dirt trail to guide his way.
Dante had looked into the surrounding groups carefully. Merchants, gladiators, friendly folk, snow people, pirates. In all honesty, the pirates sounded badass, but he wasn't really a yar-har ocean fellow, so he sought out some other place to take up residence in. It was then that he heard of a group known as the Rosebloods. Stylists and warriors. Rogues with a sense of fashion. It sounded sick, really. With a lack of some soldierly force to turn to, the canine made a hasty decision to turn to these folk for the time being. Who knows? Perhaps he could enjoy his time here.
"Let's go, Pinkie." Gently tapping and then straightening his signature pink bowtie, the male pushed onward, an inquisitive gleam in his light brown hues. Better say he was here than be labeled some intruder looking to stick up their base or whatever the hell. "YO! Anyone here?"
Dante had looked into the surrounding groups carefully. Merchants, gladiators, friendly folk, snow people, pirates. In all honesty, the pirates sounded badass, but he wasn't really a yar-har ocean fellow, so he sought out some other place to take up residence in. It was then that he heard of a group known as the Rosebloods. Stylists and warriors. Rogues with a sense of fashion. It sounded sick, really. With a lack of some soldierly force to turn to, the canine made a hasty decision to turn to these folk for the time being. Who knows? Perhaps he could enjoy his time here.
"Let's go, Pinkie." Gently tapping and then straightening his signature pink bowtie, the male pushed onward, an inquisitive gleam in his light brown hues. Better say he was here than be labeled some intruder looking to stick up their base or whatever the hell. "YO! Anyone here?"
[glow=#c7002e,2,300]I'M A HIGHWAY STAR[/glow] — ♚
haha rip these goofs