Name: Twenty-Seven

Gender: Male

Age: 7 Months - Still A Pup.

Species: Wolf

Breed: Mexican Gray Wolf

Description: To Start Off With, Under His Coat Lies A Silken Coat Of Pure White, With A Few Mislead Creams Here And There. After That Deep Under Coat, Ontop Lies A Pelt Of Many Shades And Hues. The Colors Are Common To Mexican Grey Wolves, Reds, Tans, Blacks, Greys. His Face Is A Mask Of Ruddy Orchid, Mostly Red, Almost Like Blood Stains. His Legs Are Also Mostly Red, And It's Not Because Of The Bland Red Sand He Likes To Leap In. His Torso, Which Is Quiet Muscular Is Like A Mixing Pot Of Colors, but Mostly Once Again Reds, But With Many Shades Of Earthen Browns, Silvers, And Greys. His Eyes, Like Most Wolves Of Either Species Are A Deep Honey Yellow Color, That Look Like Pools Of Liquid, His Pupil The Center Of It All. His Left Back Paw, Is A Sicking Site To Behold. When He Was Only A Young Whelp, A Wolf Biologist Shot Him By Accident. Trying To Dart Him Near The Rump, The Dart Went Into His Paw Instead. The Dart Was Trying To Make Him Rest For A While, So That The Wolf Biologist Could Further Study Him. The Paw Is Getting Better, but Still, Only A Few Stray Red Hairs Grow, And The Skin Is Purple And Raw Under Those Few Hairs. He Can Still Run, And Leap Like Normal Wolves His Age, But He Has To Limp. He Doesn't Care About It Anyway, Not Thinking About The Past But Only The Future. He's A Very Handsome Wolf Indeed, Despite All These Problems And Faults. One Of His Biggest Faults Is Having A Large Tag In His Ear, That Says Twenty-Seven.

Pack/Mate: He Doesn't Have A Pack Yet. His Pack All Died.

Personality: Indepent And Brave, He Is Rarely Seen With The Other Wolves, Or The Pack For That Matter. He Is Curious, And Always Seems To Ask The Wrong Thing At The Wrong Time. He Hates To Follow The Crowd, And Would Much Rather Follow Himself, Or No One At All. He Doesn't Take Directions Or Leaders To Kindly, And Only Obeys When He Must. And Still, Yeah, He's Not Happy. He Doesn't Like Pleasing Wolves Or Foxes Either, He Feels Embarssed When They Praise Him For Doing Something. The Reason He Does Feel Embarrsed Is Because, He Knows That They Are Just Saying That, He Knows That They Don't Really Mean. Twenty-Seven Thinks Every Thing He Does Is Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He Sometimes Can Get Vile, And When He Does, Even The Alpha Is Scared. Not For Himself Of Course, Just For The Pack. Heh. When Twenty-Seven Gets Angry, He Gets 'BloodWrath', He Attacks Everything, Not Caring If He Is Losing More Blood Then Winning. He Seems Not To Care If Many Sharp Wolven Teeth Are Into His Small Little Body, All He Cares About Is Winning, And Showing Who Is Boss Of Who. Of Course, He Doesn't Win, The Whole Pack Has To Keep Him Back, But, Still. Twenty-Seven Likes To Act Surpreme Over Younger Or Weaker Wolves, Bossing Them Around, And Pretending He Is About To Kill Them, When's He's Not. He's Basicly The Pack's Clown. One Day Twenty-Seven Wishes To Be A Alpha Of A Whole Pack Of Wolves, And He Plans On Winning The Alpha Leadership..By Killing.

History:

Twenty-Seven Was Born In A Den, Not Far Off From Wonderous Trees, And Shimmering Rivers. The Den Was Far Off From Anything Noise. So The Female Thought It Would Be Safe To Have Her Pups. Well, Yeah She Did. Like Most Wolves, The Female Likes To Be Alone When Having Them, And She Only Permitted One Wolf Even Near The Den, The Alpha Male. The Alpha Male Did Not Care If She Had Pups, She Was The Alpha Female, It Was Her Duty To Provide The Pack With New Pups. When The Pups Were Just Starting To Come Out Of Then Den, And Romp With The Young Wolves Of The Pack, Something Happened. A Wolven Biologist Came To Study Them. Of Course, He Did Not Mean No Harm What So Ever, But, The Wolves Did Not Know That. Scared For Their Life, All The Big Wolves Of The Pack Selected A Pup To Carry On The Journey Away From The Biologist. While The Pups Were Picked Up One By One, The Only Male In The Litter, Twenty-Seven, Was Off Trying To Hunt Meadow Mice, And Water Voles Near A Fallen Tree. As The Biologist Sense The Wolves Leaving, He Got Out His Dart Gun To Try To Shoot Them, Not Killing Them, Just Making Them Rest. Missing On Everyone Of The Wolves, He Spotted Twenty-Seven, Alone, And Unaware Of What Was Going On. The Biologist Took A Chance And Tried To Dart The Small Wolf Pup In The Rump, Failing, He Shoot The Wolf In The Back Paw By Mistake. Still, Twenty-Seven Passed Out. The Biologist Quickly Tagged The Wolf With A Number Tag In His Ear, With The Name "Twenty-Seven" On It. Leaving Him Alone, The Biologist Walked Away, As The Pup With The Name Twenty-Seven Slowly Walked Away Too. Now, He's Seven Months Old, Fending For Himself In The Wild.

Interesting Facts: ~Twenty-Seven Did Not Have A Name Until The Biologist Darted Him And Named Him Twenty-Seven. ~He Never Found His Old Pack. ~His Old Pack Left Him By Mistake.