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Description

Kyoto Whitecross belongs to, mimmiley
The Boss belongs to, ThomasBlack1
Zander belongs to, TheDevilsLotus
Otis belongs to, InfernoCanine
If I have portrayed your dogs incorrectly, let me know and I will fix it immediately.

+2 Biscuits earned

~~~~~

The pack does not just take any new faces that comes around, they have to prove themselves worthy and that is why the alpha created a test in order to see who has the heart of a Dunkle. Once you have voiced your desire to enter the pack, you will be taken to the forest nearby, blindfolded. Once far enough, you will be left on your own with one mission, retrieve the scarf and come back with it to the alpha. You have only one day and one night to find it, otherwise, you will be left for dead. It may sound easy, but the scarf is green, try to find that in a forest full of wild animals! Other pack members are set in the same forest as you in order to ambush you or fight you off if you come near them. Never underestimate a Dunkle, you will regret it, so make sure that you know what you are doing before the unforgiving forest keeps you for ever.

~~~~~

Otis – Entrance Test [Dunkle]

It all happened so quickly, he wasn’t entirely sure how it came about that he was now deep into the winter forest, without Zander. Wasn’t their plan to stick by each other’s sides? When did that idea change? It was as these questions ran through his mind that he finally realised what had occurred. Nearly as soon as they had expressed an interest in joining the pack, they had been separated. Something about an initiation ritual. At first, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of participating in, what appeared to him as, a cult-like ritual. But if that’s what it took to become a part of something bigger and better, who was he to argue. Besides, his survival buddy seemed, hmm, well… not too keen either, but he couldn’t argue… could he? Should he? No. He wanted this, he could not drag Zander through the pack just to get kicked out without even giving it a chance.

Nearly instantly after being separated from Zander, he was blindfolded and lead to god-knows-where. Was he nervous? No. He was bloody terrified. What had he gotten himself into? He couldn’t help but let his tail tuck tightly between his legs as he allowed himself to be lead into the forest. He knew it was the forest as he could never misplace the crunching of snow beneath his paws and the occasional twig snap… well, that and he had run into a tree. He wasn’t too certain it had been a mistake either.

Before he could dwell too much on the tree incident, a silvery voice, obviously feminine, flowed across the chilling winter winds.
“Find a scarf, green of colour, bring it back to me… and you will be considered for a place among us.”

His head tilted in response, all this effort just to be considered? It just didn’t seem right. But he was here now, he could not fail, his pride wouldn’t allow it. With a soundless inhale, he caught their scents. He would follow them back, once he had the scarf. Surely, they would not be foolish enough to hide the scarf themselves, right? Or, was he overestimating them? No. He couldn’t be. They were a warring pack. They wouldn’t make those rookie mistakes.

With their scents freshly in his mind he heard the unmistakeable sound of their paws against the snow, though this time, he was not being brought with them. Where they going to give him a command? Unblindfold him? Attack? Admittedly, he hoped that it would be the first two, but he didn’t know them or their ways to it could be anything. So, he waited… and waited… until, nothing. Not feeling the need to remain blindfolded he lowered his head to meet his paws as they pulled the simple cloth from his eyes. Blinking into the intense brightness that was winter, he gained his bearings. He was right. He was in a forest, but he was unfamiliar with what part. It was then that he found his thoughts wander to another. Zander, his survival buddy, he would know where they are and how to search for a flapping piece of cloth. At least, he assumed it would be flapping as it would make little to no sense to place it upon the snow. But maybe that was a part of the trial?

Without much of an idea, he found his gaze turning towards the fresh snow that covered the earth. Its bright, pale colour causing the Dunker mix to squint at it, shuffling his paws to bury them beneath the frozen blanket. It was then an idea struck him. The snow stuck to his paws, so it would do the same to the others. That is how he will find the pathetic cloth that is green in colour. With a game plan developed, he turned in any direction and ran. Stopping at any tracks he came by, squinting at them until he could tell what animal had made them. Proud that he come up with the idea on his own.

Once his amber eyes fell to a deep set of tracks, he stretched his legs out in front of him and dug his paws into the soft snow, skidding to a halt before practically burying his nose in the tracks. The scent was unfamiliar, but the tracks were definitely canine in origin. A larger dog, so it would be unlikely to be a wild, wandering dog. His gaze rose until his nose pointed in the same direction as the tracks lead moments before his paws took him in that same direction. His nose occasionally sniffing to ensure he remained on the right track as his amber orbs followed the tracks beneath his paws. It wasn’t until the tracks twisted and turned until they mingled with another that confusion began to cloud his mind. Those looked like his tracks. A deep inhale only confirmed his fears.

They were his tracks.

With his eyes slightly widened he craned his neck until his gaze was behind him. Eagerly searching for any movement but desperately wishing there was none. It was only when a twig snapped in front of him that his gaze hurriedly returned to the trees there. His ears twisted behind him as his gaze remained trained upon the trees beyond the tracks. His silent paws picking their way through the snow as he lowered his form so his stomach was just touching the freezing blanket. Cautiously, he made his way over to where he assumed the noise had originated from, only to find nothing. Relaxing his pose, he rose slightly. Rising his head so that he could swivel it about his surroundings, an attempt to discover the source of said noise. It was then that his amber eyes landed upon the delicate form of a pale doe. It deflated him. He wished so much for it to be someone who would lead him to the scarf. As if to vent his anger, he released a bark. One that started as a growl but grew to become the powerful bark that echoed among the trees, causing birds and other assorted creatures (including the pale doe) to abandon their cover and flee.

Choosing to abandon his attempt to follow the large tracks from before, and ignoring the uneasy feeling caused by them mingling with their old and his new tracks, he turned his attention elsewhere. Opting to find a new angle to follow in his search for the green scarf. One that relied heavily on luck. He turned his lithe form around, only to be stopped in his tracks. There standing in front of him was probably the very same dog he had attempted to follow. God knows they were tall enough. Even at a distance he felt them tower over him. Their pelt as pale as the snow around them made it easy for him to believe that he had probably stared directly at them before without seeing them. But now he had, and they knew it. Their stoic features gave Otis nothing to work from. Were they friendly? Were they aggressive? Were they mentally sound? He had no way of telling. He could not stand there in a Mexican standoff, his time was slowly but surely running out and he needed to succeed.

Without any hesitation his amber gaze locked upon their strikingly pale steel-blue orbs, a devilish smile playing upon his maw before he flashed his white teeth, charging at the tall mutt. He felt no need for fancy footwork, instead choosing to charge straight and true. He saw the larger dog brace themselves, tensing their hind legs as their lips peeled back into a snarl.

As he lunged, they lifted to their hind legs grabbing the higher ground, so to speak. But what they were not aware of, he was not after them. At the last minute he twisted his form, brushing past the large female. As if predicting his movements, the females opened maw followed him. Brushing against his thick fur as it closed, just missing him. His paws landed with a soft ‘thud’ in the snow, sending it spraying up his legs as he pushed off in a sprint, running further into the forest. Knowing that the weight that accompanies the height would make it a little too difficult for them to closely follow him. Thus, making it far too easy for him to out run them.

Feeling smug with the distance he had put between himself and the female that nearly took a chunk of flesh from his side, he paused. A cocky grin plastered upon his maw as he struggled to gain control over his breathing, a small chuckle testing his lips. It was during this moment that he realised he must be close. After all, a pack member would not be guarding the way to nowhere. Now all he had to do was follow the trail left for him. If he could find the members of the Dunkle pack, he could find his way to the green cloth.

The second encounter with another was… well, unusual. His eager gaze landed upon what appeared to be an injured canine. He felt as though he should stop and aid them, but he simply didn’t have the time. He would come back for them later… if he remembered. He shifted his form to slink around them, not wanting them to call out to him and alert the others to his location, but he hesitated. Bringing his paw down as he paused, only to jump at the sudden metallic snap that vibrated his toenails and seemed to leap out of the snow just in front of his paws in an elaborate attempt to latch onto anything. Unable to stop himself, he leapt into the air releasing a startled yelp. Forcing all attention on himself and the metal trap that now sat atop the disturbed snow. His ears flattened to his skull as his amber eyes turned to the ‘injured’ mutt. Only to see four other head poke out from hiding places all around the ‘injured’ mutt who no longer looked injured. It was an ambush. With a quick thanks to his luck, he bolted. Only looking back once he thought there was enough distance between him and them. Hoping that there were no other metal traps near-by. Assuming there to be enough distance between himself and the ambush, as they were not in his sight, he slowed his pace to a slow trot.

He moved at this pace for some time, keeping his senses sharp as he didn’t want to miss a single thing, but by now the pawprints were no longer visible. The chilly winter wind had simply blew them away and in some places, there was simply too much disturbances within the snow. But once again, his luck triumphed. He felt his paw catch on something beneath the snow, pulling his front leg under his stomach at an awkward angle causing him to stumble and fall. The soft snow cushioning his face-plant. He was quick to right himself, snow remained atop his head until he swivelled it to see the cause of his ungraceful fall. What he saw had his jaw dropping half in shock, half in amazement. It was the green scarf. They had buried it after all.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the scarf between his teeth and made his way out of the forest and to the pack. Zander, the only thought upon his mind. He hoped his friend and made it through the trial, just as he had. The Dunkle pack would not have the same appeal if he could not have the familiarity of his friend by his side.

His amber gaze scanned the pack once he had returned to them, hoping to see Zander among them. It was only when his amber orbs landed upon familiar rich brown orbs that he felt himself finally relax. His own stealth had surprised him as it would seem he remained unnoticed by the pack, who continued to shuffle within the forest, assumedly waiting for Otis to show up with the green rag. He couldn’t help the quietly amused huff that escaped his nose, one that caused a small cloud to form around his maw. His gaze was once again draw to that of his closest friend, only to notice the smirk upon Zander’s face almost taunting him with the fact that he had finished first. But it bothered Otis little. They were right where they wanted to be, and they still had each other for moral support. Just as brothers should.

Perhaps a little to cocky, he strutted to the exact centre of the pack where a familiar dark form lingered. A lopsided grin featured upon his muzzle as he placed the green scarf at her paws, only then did he notice the unusually symmetrical white cross marking upon her chest. It mattered little though. He had performed their little trial, now it was up to them as to whether or not he had done so successfully.

His amber orbs were drawn to meet her intense gaze. A cheeky spark within his eyes signalling a cheeky retort.
“Green isn’t your colour.”

Description

Kyoto Whitecross belongs to, mimmiley
The Boss belongs to, ThomasBlack1
Zander belongs to, TheDevilsLotus
Otis belongs to, InfernoCanine
If I have portrayed your dogs incorrectly, let me know and I will fix it immediately.

+2 Biscuits earned

~~~~~

The pack does not just take any new faces that comes around, they have to prove themselves worthy and that is why the alpha created a test in order to see who has the heart of a Dunkle. Once you have voiced your desire to enter the pack, you will be taken to the forest nearby, blindfolded. Once far enough, you will be left on your own with one mission, retrieve the scarf and come back with it to the alpha. You have only one day and one night to find it, otherwise, you will be left for dead. It may sound easy, but the scarf is green, try to find that in a forest full of wild animals! Other pack members are set in the same forest as you in order to ambush you or fight you off if you come near them. Never underestimate a Dunkle, you will regret it, so make sure that you know what you are doing before the unforgiving forest keeps you for ever.

~~~~~

Otis – Entrance Test [Dunkle]

It all happened so quickly, he wasn’t entirely sure how it came about that he was now deep into the winter forest, without Zander. Wasn’t their plan to stick by each other’s sides? When did that idea change? It was as these questions ran through his mind that he finally realised what had occurred. Nearly as soon as they had expressed an interest in joining the pack, they had been separated. Something about an initiation ritual. At first, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of participating in, what appeared to him as, a cult-like ritual. But if that’s what it took to become a part of something bigger and better, who was he to argue. Besides, his survival buddy seemed, hmm, well… not too keen either, but he couldn’t argue… could he? Should he? No. He wanted this, he could not drag Zander through the pack just to get kicked out without even giving it a chance.

Nearly instantly after being separated from Zander, he was blindfolded and lead to god-knows-where. Was he nervous? No. He was bloody terrified. What had he gotten himself into? He couldn’t help but let his tail tuck tightly between his legs as he allowed himself to be lead into the forest. He knew it was the forest as he could never misplace the crunching of snow beneath his paws and the occasional twig snap… well, that and he had run into a tree. He wasn’t too certain it had been a mistake either.

Before he could dwell too much on the tree incident, a silvery voice, obviously feminine, flowed across the chilling winter winds.
“Find a scarf, green of colour, bring it back to me… and you will be considered for a place among us.”

His head tilted in response, all this effort just to be considered? It just didn’t seem right. But he was here now, he could not fail, his pride wouldn’t allow it. With a soundless inhale, he caught their scents. He would follow them back, once he had the scarf. Surely, they would not be foolish enough to hide the scarf themselves, right? Or, was he overestimating them? No. He couldn’t be. They were a warring pack. They wouldn’t make those rookie mistakes.

With their scents freshly in his mind he heard the unmistakeable sound of their paws against the snow, though this time, he was not being brought with them. Where they going to give him a command? Unblindfold him? Attack? Admittedly, he hoped that it would be the first two, but he didn’t know them or their ways to it could be anything. So, he waited… and waited… until, nothing. Not feeling the need to remain blindfolded he lowered his head to meet his paws as they pulled the simple cloth from his eyes. Blinking into the intense brightness that was winter, he gained his bearings. He was right. He was in a forest, but he was unfamiliar with what part. It was then that he found his thoughts wander to another. Zander, his survival buddy, he would know where they are and how to search for a flapping piece of cloth. At least, he assumed it would be flapping as it would make little to no sense to place it upon the snow. But maybe that was a part of the trial?

Without much of an idea, he found his gaze turning towards the fresh snow that covered the earth. Its bright, pale colour causing the Dunker mix to squint at it, shuffling his paws to bury them beneath the frozen blanket. It was then an idea struck him. The snow stuck to his paws, so it would do the same to the others. That is how he will find the pathetic cloth that is green in colour. With a game plan developed, he turned in any direction and ran. Stopping at any tracks he came by, squinting at them until he could tell what animal had made them. Proud that he come up with the idea on his own.

Once his amber eyes fell to a deep set of tracks, he stretched his legs out in front of him and dug his paws into the soft snow, skidding to a halt before practically burying his nose in the tracks. The scent was unfamiliar, but the tracks were definitely canine in origin. A larger dog, so it would be unlikely to be a wild, wandering dog. His gaze rose until his nose pointed in the same direction as the tracks lead moments before his paws took him in that same direction. His nose occasionally sniffing to ensure he remained on the right track as his amber orbs followed the tracks beneath his paws. It wasn’t until the tracks twisted and turned until they mingled with another that confusion began to cloud his mind. Those looked like his tracks. A deep inhale only confirmed his fears.

They were his tracks.

With his eyes slightly widened he craned his neck until his gaze was behind him. Eagerly searching for any movement but desperately wishing there was none. It was only when a twig snapped in front of him that his gaze hurriedly returned to the trees there. His ears twisted behind him as his gaze remained trained upon the trees beyond the tracks. His silent paws picking their way through the snow as he lowered his form so his stomach was just touching the freezing blanket. Cautiously, he made his way over to where he assumed the noise had originated from, only to find nothing. Relaxing his pose, he rose slightly. Rising his head so that he could swivel it about his surroundings, an attempt to discover the source of said noise. It was then that his amber eyes landed upon the delicate form of a pale doe. It deflated him. He wished so much for it to be someone who would lead him to the scarf. As if to vent his anger, he released a bark. One that started as a growl but grew to become the powerful bark that echoed among the trees, causing birds and other assorted creatures (including the pale doe) to abandon their cover and flee.

Choosing to abandon his attempt to follow the large tracks from before, and ignoring the uneasy feeling caused by them mingling with their old and his new tracks, he turned his attention elsewhere. Opting to find a new angle to follow in his search for the green scarf. One that relied heavily on luck. He turned his lithe form around, only to be stopped in his tracks. There standing in front of him was probably the very same dog he had attempted to follow. God knows they were tall enough. Even at a distance he felt them tower over him. Their pelt as pale as the snow around them made it easy for him to believe that he had probably stared directly at them before without seeing them. But now he had, and they knew it. Their stoic features gave Otis nothing to work from. Were they friendly? Were they aggressive? Were they mentally sound? He had no way of telling. He could not stand there in a Mexican standoff, his time was slowly but surely running out and he needed to succeed.

Without any hesitation his amber gaze locked upon their strikingly pale steel-blue orbs, a devilish smile playing upon his maw before he flashed his white teeth, charging at the tall mutt. He felt no need for fancy footwork, instead choosing to charge straight and true. He saw the larger dog brace themselves, tensing their hind legs as their lips peeled back into a snarl.

As he lunged, they lifted to their hind legs grabbing the higher ground, so to speak. But what they were not aware of, he was not after them. At the last minute he twisted his form, brushing past the large female. As if predicting his movements, the females opened maw followed him. Brushing against his thick fur as it closed, just missing him. His paws landed with a soft ‘thud’ in the snow, sending it spraying up his legs as he pushed off in a sprint, running further into the forest. Knowing that the weight that accompanies the height would make it a little too difficult for them to closely follow him. Thus, making it far too easy for him to out run them.

Feeling smug with the distance he had put between himself and the female that nearly took a chunk of flesh from his side, he paused. A cocky grin plastered upon his maw as he struggled to gain control over his breathing, a small chuckle testing his lips. It was during this moment that he realised he must be close. After all, a pack member would not be guarding the way to nowhere. Now all he had to do was follow the trail left for him. If he could find the members of the Dunkle pack, he could find his way to the green cloth.

The second encounter with another was… well, unusual. His eager gaze landed upon what appeared to be an injured canine. He felt as though he should stop and aid them, but he simply didn’t have the time. He would come back for them later… if he remembered. He shifted his form to slink around them, not wanting them to call out to him and alert the others to his location, but he hesitated. Bringing his paw down as he paused, only to jump at the sudden metallic snap that vibrated his toenails and seemed to leap out of the snow just in front of his paws in an elaborate attempt to latch onto anything. Unable to stop himself, he leapt into the air releasing a startled yelp. Forcing all attention on himself and the metal trap that now sat atop the disturbed snow. His ears flattened to his skull as his amber eyes turned to the ‘injured’ mutt. Only to see four other head poke out from hiding places all around the ‘injured’ mutt who no longer looked injured. It was an ambush. With a quick thanks to his luck, he bolted. Only looking back once he thought there was enough distance between him and them. Hoping that there were no other metal traps near-by. Assuming there to be enough distance between himself and the ambush, as they were not in his sight, he slowed his pace to a slow trot.

He moved at this pace for some time, keeping his senses sharp as he didn’t want to miss a single thing, but by now the pawprints were no longer visible. The chilly winter wind had simply blew them away and in some places, there was simply too much disturbances within the snow. But once again, his luck triumphed. He felt his paw catch on something beneath the snow, pulling his front leg under his stomach at an awkward angle causing him to stumble and fall. The soft snow cushioning his face-plant. He was quick to right himself, snow remained atop his head until he swivelled it to see the cause of his ungraceful fall. What he saw had his jaw dropping half in shock, half in amazement. It was the green scarf. They had buried it after all.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the scarf between his teeth and made his way out of the forest and to the pack. Zander, the only thought upon his mind. He hoped his friend and made it through the trial, just as he had. The Dunkle pack would not have the same appeal if he could not have the familiarity of his friend by his side.

His amber gaze scanned the pack once he had returned to them, hoping to see Zander among them. It was only when his amber orbs landed upon familiar rich brown orbs that he felt himself finally relax. His own stealth had surprised him as it would seem he remained unnoticed by the pack, who continued to shuffle within the forest, assumedly waiting for Otis to show up with the green rag. He couldn’t help the quietly amused huff that escaped his nose, one that caused a small cloud to form around his maw. His gaze was once again draw to that of his closest friend, only to notice the smirk upon Zander’s face almost taunting him with the fact that he had finished first. But it bothered Otis little. They were right where they wanted to be, and they still had each other for moral support. Just as brothers should.

Perhaps a little to cocky, he strutted to the exact centre of the pack where a familiar dark form lingered. A lopsided grin featured upon his muzzle as he placed the green scarf at her paws, only then did he notice the unusually symmetrical white cross marking upon her chest. It mattered little though. He had performed their little trial, now it was up to them as to whether or not he had done so successfully.

His amber orbs were drawn to meet her intense gaze. A cheeky spark within his eyes signalling a cheeky retort.
“Green isn’t your colour.”