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Tracker - Val Rp Tracker
Storage - Valencia Storage

:bulletblack: GENERAL

Name - Valencia

Meaning / Origin - Variant spelling of Spanish Valentia, meaning "power."

Preferred - Full Name

Alias - Val or "V"

Age - 3.5 Years [Approx 24 year old]

Gender - Female

Voice - Spanish Accent, Medium Pitch.

Speech Patterns - Easy, collective, and calming - with pausing if she comes across words she's unfamiliar with or in situations where she's unsure.

Pack - Aphyxa

Rank -Haslr



:bulletblack: APPEARANCE


Breed - [Hound / Bulldog / Sighthound / Other]

Breed [In Depth] - shikoku / painter american bulldog / malinois / english foxhound / borzoi / saluki / ibizan / german shorthaired pointer / viszla

Height - 25" @ withers

Weight - 50-55lbs [depending on food intake]

Color - [Liver] Red reverse sable w/ piebald.

Body - Atheltic & Trim, elegant neck, chest is moderate compared to other sighthound builds.

Head - Hound-like with a point of the nose, tight lips, medium drop ears, pale hazel eyes, red nose.

Legs - Powerful and long, all white except for left front leg.

Tail - Long, relaxed lays between legs with gentle curl ; dominant/aggressive/alert curls around back in loose curl - covered in thick feathering.

Fur Type - Feathered in cetain places [Chest / Tail ], short and clean everywhere else.

Stance & Posture - Tall, dominant, confident without being forced.

Scars / Injury - Many small , insignificant scars across body from scuffles or fights , no major injuries as of yet.

Scent - Grass & Rain


:bulletblack: PERSONAL & MENTAL



Mentality Overview - Fairly realistic, depending on circumstance. She'll tell you the truth, and often times has no interest in lying to save face or make you feel better; however if it is more than a white lie situation, it'll completely depend on survival. She'd throw you under a bus if it meant saving her own ass, and wouldn't really regret it, her state of thought is to stay alive - and survival is primal. Her mind is organized and everything works how it should; it aggrivates her when her plans/rules/boundaries are hindered or pushed. She gets irritated often from pent up stress that's mostly mental, it is expelled in both aggression and dominance. She often keeps things rather formal, which doesn't entail that she's rude or unfriendly, just careful. While she can be tough on others, she'll often mean well, and intends to put no one in particular danger unless it's to save herself.

Motivation / Drive - Survival, life in general.

Religous / Spiritual - No interest.

Belief Status - "Restart: Rebuild"

Major Faults - Impatience & Irritability

Fears - Losing hope to survive ; death

Likes -
:bulletblack: Rain & Water ;; it's comforting and reminds her of her father.
:bulletblack: Running ;; usually when she's stressed/unhappy, allows her release ill thought.
:bulletblack: Confidence [and leadership] ;; uncertain & doubting people irritate her.
:bulletblack: Hare ;; it's delicious and fun to chase.
:bulletblack: Realists ;; she likes moderate thinkers, none who are too optomistic/cynical.

Dislikes -

:bulletblack: Large Meals ;; great in the moment, but they slow you down.
:bulletblack: Indecisive People ;; make up your mind
:bulletblack: Indirect People ;; no p*ssyfooting here
:bulletblack: Talkers ;; If she doesn't know [or like] you, keep the conversation brief. A tail wag or a growl, she can understand that just fine.

Sexuality - Bisexual
Type - Not very romantic, is not interested in "the one", can be emotional if close bond is present.
Interests - Directness, Confidence, calm behaviors, humor
Turn-Offs - 'Nice' types , Arrogance, Overly emotional/aggressive , Brooding/Pesimistic types
Current Affiliations -
    Mate: N/A
    Flings: N/A

Personality Break-Down -

POSITIVE

:bulletgreen: Honest. Truthful.
Valencia has no issue telling it like it is, she finds that the less she lies with little things the easier time she'll have in the future being forward. This trait may land her in hot water or awkward situations occassionally, and can make others wary of trusting her with secrets - but it also means if you're looking for the truth she'll often tell you. The only reason she would lie or create stories is to save herself, luckily this is not often.

:bulletgreen: Formal. Charasmatic.
While she won't always have much to say [or won't want to listen to much], she's good at making brief conversation in order to build ties. She's not overly friendly and kind or warm, but she can listen and come off as collective and welcoming in a way. It would be hard to find her annoying or obnoxious, as she's aware when to cut things short or keep them going. Her conversational skills can be described as quick but satisfying.

:bulletgreen: Agreeable. Appealing.
Because Val lacks certain "extreme" traits, other than her aggressive tendancies, she is very balanced. This allows for just about anyone to talk to her or come in contact with her. She does not hole up away from others, nor does she get in everyone's face. She's not overly trusting but is not mysterious to a fault. She's not sluggish/lazy but also not overly energentic/daredevil. So on, so forth. You'll find that she's very much in the middle for most traits, allowing her to come in contact with just about anyone, find some sort of relatable behavior , and get on their good or neutral side.

NEUTRAL

:bulletblack: Observant. Intuitive.
It's always beneficial to watch others. Val finds herself remembering every face, voice, personality, quicks, and so on within just the first meeting. She has a hard time forgetting just about anything about anyone, she may be a Haslr but she's on the up about everyone. She's got a gift for reading people, and it allows her to know who can be useful to her in any given situation or how to make sure she stays in the good graces of others.

:bulletblack: Disciplined. Strict.
Val doesn't have a difficult time answering to authority and giving respect where she has to [even if she doesn't personally respect the person in question.] She does what's asked of her because it's the easiest way to be the "good guy", being rebellious only causes trouble, and she's not interested in it. Because of this, rebels/back talkers/and the like bother her, and she'll often be stricter with these types of dogs and doesn't tolerate it.

:bulletblack: Open. Lacking Prejudce.
She doesn't care what you are, what you believe, how you lick your butt, she doesn't care. Your opinions and personal quelms as an aqquantance mean so little to her that she'll not cause any fights over which animal is better to eat or what god you believe. Unless you're involved with her romantically, she's really got no interest in your sense of morality, opinion, or spiritual belief. She'll respect everyone to an extent as long as they're not pushing anything on her.

NEGATIVE

:bulletred: Anal. Irritable.
Valencia is possibly controlling, she prefers everything to work out as she plans it to, from a meal to a hunt to a conversation. Often times it'll cause irritation if her standards, mental layout, or ideas are not met as she imagined them to be; however she's very good at holding in her irritation until you're out of sight. She's adaptable with her ideas but to an extent, only if it makes sense to be. To put it simply, she is not spontaneous in any sense of the word and it is difficult to get her to do spur of the moment things.

:bulletred: Aggressive. Dominant.
Given that she's disciplined, you'll rarely find Val randomly attacking dogs at will whenever small annoyances occur. However, if you're clearly being obnoxious or violent towards her , she becomes extremely aggressive and this will usually result in a fight until she feels you got the message. If you come near her again, she will repeat the same behavior, if you've provoked her once into a fight that's it. If she just doesn't like or know you, you'll find she's rather dominant and doesn't back down to serious challenges or threats.

:bulletred: Lacking in Devotion. Fickle Loyalty.
She doesn't believe everything lasts forever, and if she feels a situation no longer works for her, she will drop it, bury it, and never look back. Whether it's a pack, a friendship, or a lover, she has no issue leaving it even if she was heavily invested. Maybe this can seem cold or awful, but it falls in align with her sense of survival - she sees no reason to be dependent to a fault.


:bulletblack: FAMILY TREE


Marcelo [ Male, Father, Deceased by infection of leg]
Val's relationship with Marcelo was all she had, he was her caregiver, protector, mentor, and more. She respected him and admired him, but after his death she realized survival was better in numbers.

Ines [ Female, Mother, Deceased by Marcelo]
Val knows very little of her mother except for what she's been told my Marcelo. Apparently she was "OK" said Marcelo.

Asariah [ Female, Surrogate, Possibly Alive]
Val also knows little about Asariah, but remembers her from her puppyhood.


:bulletblack: HISTORY

Disclaimer;; This history breaks up into moments of dialog that are specific to Valencia's growth and development. It can be inferred that many things have happened to her in life, but not every detail is explained here, only important memories she has that shaped her personality traits and context information for the memories.



Born to a small group of native Spainard dogs near Tersel Forest, in the tail end of spring, with four brothers, a mother, and father.

The group had been in the same spot for what was assumed to be decades, staying tight nit due to cultures and customs that had been passed down from the beyond times. The group was generational, everyone there had their parents or grandparents, almost everyone was in close relation. Very few except for elders spoke the native tongue, but their speech patterns were similar, and when taught to speak everyone sounded the same - outside the group however, everyone sounded odd and foreign. There was a loose heirarchy, leaders, guards, doctors, mentors - everyone had a place.

Marcelo, a large male, with fur as red as a brick building, and a dark shadow along his face with big brown eyes, he was a guard. Well respected, charsmatic, and kept most of everything running as it should. His life was working perfectly, as it should, as his parents' lives did and his grandparents; he had a rank, was well fed, and would soon find someone to settle with. Everything was in order, until she showed up, a foreigner. She had his first [and last] litter, five beautiful puppies, with only a single female. His title as mate and father did not last very long; the death of his four male pups followed by the death of his mate, left him only a father to a motherless female.

In an effort to keep her alive, Marcelo offered to hunt hares for a whelping female named Asariah, in exchange for milk. When the female agreed, he was ensured his puppy could be whelped at the very least, and would not suffer the same fate as her brothers. He wouldn't let that happen. Raising her was hard, she was rambounious for a 3 month old, and fast. Marcelo often found himself running great distances to catch her - for she was stubborn and assumed life granted her unlimited freedoms. Often she would  bite at her father's ears, half playful, half trying to kill the floppy beasts, and he would let her. It wasn't until she tore his ear in two, that she was fully reprimended and out of outrage Marcelo delievered a few angered bites that set her into stillness. An in an enraged burst yet quiet, he told her what he thought of her all in an instant,

"¿Eres tarado o qué?"
Are you an idiot or what?

The young female had not be taught her languages quite yet, but his tone told her everything she had to know about the situation. She could feel her body shrinking away from his fierce stare, raised fur, and hot breaths in shame, confusion, and guilt. This was the first time she felt such a way and it was awful.

"Ease up, Marcelo - she jus'a puppy, ease up."

Over came a rough looking guy, she didn't know his name, but he was a lanky grey man, with a big chest and thin waist and his ribs were always showing. His voice was high pitched and nonchalant, and he always had the longest smile. He stood over her and put his long smile in her face with his big yellow eyes, "Ain't that right la pobrecita, ha! You should name her Valencia, hermano - she took that ear of yours' off real easy." Whoever he was, he couldn't stop laughing, and pretty soon the few others around chuckled too, all except her father which made her reluctant to join in on the amusement.

She, had now become Valencia daughter of Marcelo. She got really good at saying that, often times the other pack members forgot who's blood she belonged to. Yes, she was rather proud of her title, only daughter to the most respected and most trusted guard of The Salvaje. Though she was never sure he felt the same way. She was almost never in his shadow, as she had her language teachings and tracking lessons, but if she had a small amount of free time she'd go to high ground and watch him there. He stood so proud, he chased off strays, and always led the head of the guards - and they would run along the borders sometimes, Valencia had always imagined her running alongside him one day too.

1 year old now, somewhat calmer, but about none the wiser. After the elders kept slurring the last few letters of her name, she became "Val"; for her newly found interest Tomas, she became "V". Perhaps it should've angered her that the bully mutt shortened her lovely name to nothing but a single letter, but every time she wanted to tell him so, she couldn't help but go speechless and giggle instead. During teachings and lessons he would sit near her and smile, and in turn she would smile and shy away. He would take her to high ground and tell her that he would be leader one day, and she would be his - and everything out there would be theirs'.

"Tonto."
Fool.

At the dusk of day her father proceeded to take the skin from a hare, one of her favorites, and he laughed at her while doing so. She didn't laugh, "Papi -  I'm serious!" she whined in frustration, stomping her white toe in the dirt.

"I know, that's why you are the fool."

She didn't understand still. She had told him Tomas promised to make her his queen, and they would rule the lands as far as the eye could see, and she wouldn't have to go to lessons anymore. She could sit back and have deer and hares brought to her, like Tomas's mother does. This time it wasn't backed up with a hardy chuckle, and the male stopped his skinning for a moment to look at her. "You think you and Tomas are madly in love, huh? Destined to be together - dumb. Love doesn't exist, and if it did it wouldn't be between you and that blue dumbass." His voice was stern now and far from amusing; and his words made anger build up inside the small red & white female. A small growl began in her throat and her eyes searched the floor as she looked for a rebuttal to his rudeness, "You think he love you? He wants to have litters - and you're one of the few single female he no' related to. Love doesn't exist, it's all for selfish reasons, so get over it..." The male spoke, his eyes dropping back down to the pile of hares as he continued to skin them for tonight's celebration. Valencia lowered her hindquarters into the dirt with a steady pout and look of almost hatred in his eyes for what he said. Surely, Tomas loved her, "...You're jus' mad because you lost someone you loved-" She spit out spitefully, but before there was a moment to let it sink in - Marcelo had tackled her, knocking her to the ground and though he didn't growl or snarl - his look was just as intense as the sound of one,

"You stupid girl, yous' stupid and you know nothing."

The very next morning, without word to anyone of importance, Marcelo lead Val out of the territory. She was groggy, her body cold from the early morning breeze, and before she realized it they were far from home. She would stop, hoping in suit her father would stop too but he never did - he just kept moving forward. Uncertain exactly on how to get back home, and afraid to lose sight of him, she followed instead. And they walked, for a very long time, until her paws were bloody and so were his and they didn't stop until they crossed two rivers. Perhaps it was days that went by or weeks, she wasn't quite sure. But when all that time had passed, walking , eating, sleeping, living in silence; Marcelo never told her why they left, just that it was her fault. Now they walked every other day, struggled to catch good meals, and were often vulnerable to the elements. Part of her hated him for this, this situation he knowingly put them in; but part of her wasn't so angry. He taught her now. If he hunted, she hunted with him - and if they built a shelter it was done together; he would teach her words and she would repeat them before he could tell her what the words meant. Marcelo showed her how to mark, how to track, what the leaves meant , and what grey skies called for. He would start fights, and fight her until she was able to fight back; earn your name, that's what he always told her.

At 2.5 years she began to speak and argue less, she rarely asked questions, in their silence - he spoke the loudest with his actions; and in the times where it was needed, he would provide explanation without having to be asked. Sometimes they traveled in circles, ending up in the same spot they were a month ago - sometimes they'd cross the same river twice, and it felt like they never passed a certain barrier. Perhaps it was because of the scent of other dogs in the distance, many of them maybe. Though she didn't stray towards it, Marcelo told her not to, and she didn't. She listened to everything he said now, because he was the only thing to listen to. She wanted to remember the lively talk of the pack she grew up in but the pack of two she had now, well, there wasn't much to speak about.

Valencia, in their quiet, the long nights with little food , remembered her youth and how Marcelo never said her name, but always called her stupid, girl, fool, idiot. She'd find herself digging her nails into the dirt, clenching her jaw, resenting him in a way. But she would only think such things to herself, for she knew if she voiced every annoyance she had with him, she'd have no ears, eyes, or tongue in which to back talk him with. Val wondered if he was still the dog she thought he was, the one she would admire looking at from atop a hill. He was better as a figure unatainable rather than one who sat in front of her now, trying to father her.

[3 years old] It was warm that autumn night, true autumn hadn't begun yet. The Black-Stalk moor was excited with the chirping of critters, and the light from the moon, it was just enough.
Perhaps the only "fun" the two had together was fighting off weak and naive loner scum, chuckling about it later, then eating before a rest. It wasn't rare for loners to find the two, try to raid their supplies and food, what little they had. It wasn't rare for them to fight back and drive the cowards away. Tonight was a rare night. After a scuffle with a band of three dogs, two females and a male - they ran off as usual. Val took the lead with that fight, she chewed off the side of one shepherd female's face, and took a few good bites out of the mongrel male, her father fought the last female. They laughed, ate their hares, then fell asleep.

The next morning was brisk as they walked, it would be cold soon and would snow, Marcelo thought it best they find a den in the forests. Valencia found herself looking over her shoulder consistently, waiting for him to catch up. She studied him, and her instincts told her not to ask and to leave it be. They continued, getting closer to the forests, but they never made it. Every day for a few days, Marcelo lingered further and further behind her. Pretty soon he could not walk, he tried, and Valencia would snap at him, telling him to sit back down. One night , Marcelo said nothing, looking at the sad makeshift fire she had prepared, the brisk air was coming in. She would look at him, look down at her hare, then back at him,

"...Papi, I can go hunt another hare if you-"

He shook his head slow, so she quiet down, but was too tense to eat her hare. They didn't have to say anything to each other, the tear on his hind leg, the soft and vunurable tendon - it was bad. It looked worse now then when she first noticed it, green, white, black - flesh was red, not his. Marcelo wouldn't eat either, she would even give him small pieces, but he wouldn't look at them. She would carry water in her mouth, and he refused to drink it. She'd seen him injured before, but he never loss his will - this, this Marcelo she'd never seen before and it worried her. She hated feeling this, why couldn't he get up, and they would go find a den like he said. Why did they leave home, this wouldn't have happened. This was her fault.

"Valencia...", his voice was low, tired.

"Aye..?" , she responded quietly, picking at the fur on her hare.

"Did I ever tell you about you mother, huh?"

She shook her head, hearing his raspy, thirsty throat struggle to speak. She looked up at him, narrowing her gaze, and he continued to look at the fire. He never called her by her name, hell she'd almost forgot what it was - it had been so long since she heard it. Now the silence and pauses between his words made her anxious, and she listened to every breath he made, before he sighed, and he smiled

"She was a loner, patrollin' back and for'h everyday along the border. Elder
Juarez, he, he sent out guard after fuckin' guard,"Kill her! I want that loner gone." he said...It was jus'a female how hard could she be to chase off?"

Marcelo gave a dry huff, then a laugh before looking to Val's big pale gaze, and looking down again,

"And every guard, came back - tail between the legs, piss-scared... Finally, I said fuck it, I'll go, face to face, with el tuante...ya', she was somethin'. Look just like you - but y'kno, or ah maybe you don't. She, she was all white, with two brown dots over her eyes, and sleek. She look like she'd cut through wall if she ran fast enough. And , she ran right for me, not a scared bone in her body. I mean, I'm a big guy- and here goes this pequeña cuchilla coming straight for me - boom. Slams into me, and we fought, and all I could think while I was fighting her ,  this is destiny. She...she had you, you and your brothers. Two white, a pale brown, and a big red one like me. Then you, white with all these brown spots. The time before while you all were still in her she was so excited. So...excited."

Val's ears rose a bit as he said that, and she couldn't help but be confused, trying to search his eyes for more, but he didn't look at her, off in his own world. She'd never heard him speak so much at once, and part of her wanted more - some of her knew that this wasn't a good sign. He nodded, taking in a deep breath, coupled by a wince, shuffling to move his weight, his head dropped again, his eye lids looked heavy, and his breathes were staggered. Valencia knew she should've let him go in the quiet, but she couldn't. She rose, leaving the comfort of her warm spot moving towards him slowly. Hesitant, reluctant, and conditioned to believe he'd snap at her if she got too close, but he didn't, so she sat near him. He wasn't that warm, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest even more, as she lowered down to her belly. Pale hazel eyes looked at his brown ones, and his eyes finally looked over at her,

"I went to..to tell everybody, tell 'em my kids were here...When I came back I- he was in her mouth, the big red one - his head. All I heard was his little skull- The white ones, that little brown one...throats gone, bellies opened - I ..fuck, I - I saw red..It was like she didn't even know what she was doing and- and you, she...you were all I had left,"

Val could see his eyes become glossy, and his voice cracked, and she'd never seen it before, so her eyes got glossy too. She wanted to comfort him, but, she didn't because she knew even on his death bed that'd be the last thing he'd want -or that's what she thought she knew.

"...Maybe I coulda pushed her away, stepped over you...but I didn't. The elders told me to leave. 'You don't kill packmates, no matter what.' I ask for few months, they said one year - for your kid, then you go. "

He looked over at her, furrowing his brows, his body gently rocking with his breaths,

"...You..don't follow my mistake,don't screw yourself over. If you need to, stay somewhere safe, if you can't - leave. Don't let yourself get caught up in some fantasy world where shit always goes great. The world is fucked, infected, loners, raiders, killers, disease, mental shit that'll break down everything you know. Mistakes. Can't trust shit, can't hold onto shit, can't-"

Marcelo made some awful noise, coughing and spattering, his throat was probably even worse from all the talking. Val felt his body weight shift into her's, his big head against her's, she looked into the fire. She felt water rimming her eyes but she refused,

"What do you care about?"
"You."
"You don't,"
"I do. I killed your mother so I could still keep you... I did this, and I'm sorry. I took your mother, I took your home...I was selfish and blamed you. How could I smile at you knowing I'd have to rip you outta your home? How could I talk to you when you look just like her? The moment we left I lost you. I did something in the heat of the moment and it cost everything I had."

She closed her eyes tightly, he lifted his head placing it atop her's. She could feel water from him, droplets, dripping into her fur - and he took a shaky breath. His tears made her's fall, and she pulled away to look in his eyes. They were half closed, weak, tired. She didn't want any of this, she wanted to hear him call her a fool, and tell her she's awful at something, she didn't want to hear him confess.

"You still have me,"

She pressed her head against his, repeating herself over and over again, waiting for him to take another breath, and spit out another wall. Valencia's eyes desperately looked into his, but he was gone.

"Papi."

[i think i passed the word limit minimum ok]

:bulletblack: RP SAMPLE

The snow fell gently, coating her back, landing on her face as she looked out across the hills, rubble, and dens scattered around. It was times like this she wished she had a fur coat. Like a bear, maybe even a fox, she never understood how deer stayed warm, perhaps it was their bulk. Taking in a deep breath, the female turned to follow after the male Haslrs, all big, all brutes - except for that grey one, Havoc, very German. Wardog, the grumpy one who likes nothing; Vlad, he was the Italian shadow; and - yes, Ghost, he is a simple man who likes simple things. What crew. She was sure they had their own description for her too. Though, she had no issues with them, they all seemed OK and that was enough for her. Still new, still fresh to her rank, bargaining her way in by proving her hunting skills, and fighting ability. She didn’t know why she settled for this pack, she had crossed another on her way, but then she was still unsure. At this moment now, a few months after her father’s passing, she wanted to experience a pack life again. Ahead, they snapped and hurled a few growls at each other, though Valencia listened little to their conversation. Trailing a few paces behind, she lowered her nose to the fresh snow, making little swirls and lines as she tilted her head from side to side. Partially playing, partially trying to pick up a scent for something to hunt. When she did, it was a doe, not too far off. Valencia raised her head and shot forward, running, kicking up snow onto the males; a few barks came from her as she continued to follow the scent. Eager for her first hunt of winter.

[I don't usually type crazy walls unless there's a lot going on, 200-400 words is my average!]

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Sphruxon's avatar
She is pretty as HECKkkk