Ismahel

Gender: Male
Age: Adult (3 years)
Species: Lion
Pride: The Coldlanders
Rank: King?

Appearance:
Ismahel is a muscular white lion. He stands at about four feet and two inches in height, and eight feet and two inches in length. His eyes are a blue color. He weighs well over five-hundred pounds. His muscles tell that he is not a hunter, but more of a fighter. His mane and tuft of his fur is as white as the rest of him. He has a scar that mars his snowy-white looks, stretching from the top left part of his fore-head, right past his eye and down to the middle of his muzzle.

He has rather stocky legs, while in proportion to his body, they are not slender but stocky and muscular like the rest of his body. Like all lions, Ismahel has a long snake-like tail with a white tuft at the end. The expression upon his face often shows him being thoughtful. Ismahel looks not much different than other lions with a rather short muzzle and large jaws to house the teeth used for eating. A black nose sits at the end of his muzzle, sticking out among the white.

Personality:
A simple lion, he tries to rule firmly but fairly. He is rather young, and despite how he tries to maintain his position the best he can, it does not always work. While he gets excited at stressful situations, it leads him to sometimes making wrong decisions. This does not make him a bad leader, and perhaps he will become better as he gets older. He does not tolerate disrespect, or disobedience. He believes the punishment should fit the crime, and is a strong believer in justice. He is a believer in spirits and believes that they guide everyone in all walks of life. Some are led down the path of darkness, others to fortune, and others to their lone demise.

Ismahel is cunning, and rather intelligent. He is not perfect, but will consider every situation that comes his way carefully before making any sort of decision. He has a fondness for cubs, since they are the future. Occasionally, he feels invincible and when he feels this way, he will go out looking for a little spar of some sort. To his friends and family, he is very loyal, and can be trusted with secrets, considering that secret is not putting anyone in danger of being harmed or killed. He will take action if it is needed. While he does not really like to get involved with politics, he knows that he will have to do so eventually. When around others, Ismahel carries himself with dignity and pride. He tries to come off as mysterious and quiet. He is not all that timid, but sometimes will only speak when he has something worthwhile to say. He is friendly to those that he meets, and a gentle-lion toward the ladies.

Family:
Father: Mezrick (Deceased)
Mother: Serina (Deceased)
Sister: Aelia (Deceased), Tyana(Missing)
Brother: Iaron (Deceased)

History:
Mezrick and Serina met as rogues around the Pridelands. They struck out on their own, wanting more for their coming cubs. They made their stake at the Coldlands, where Mezrick declared himself king. Their first litter, only one cub was born. A male named Iaron. A year later, three cubs were born, two girls and one male. They called the name of the male Ismahel, and the girls Tyana and Aelia. The cubs were growing under the love and care of their parents. Ismahel had a relatively happy life but not all was fine and dandy amongst his parents, who had begun to argue over who would become the new king. The cubs hated to hear their parents fight, but would often try to ignore it by playing among each other, or playing a game.

Now, their life was not completely isolated. Mezrick considered the Pridelands allies, and still tried to keep closely connected with them. Ismahel still fondly remembers playing with the cubs of the Pridelands, but does not remember their names. Other than the alliance between the Pridelands and the Coldlands, his cubhood was very uneventful, except for his parents arguing over whether he or his brother would become king. Right now, Ismahel was ready to allow his brother to be king, and did not wish to fight over it. He just wanted peace among his family again.

It was when they became adolescents is when tragedy struck. First came the illness, when Aelia fell ill. She refused to eat or drink, and the family watched as she became sicker and sicker and soon passed away. Tyana was so grieved that she ran away, and they never saw her again. Shortly after that, Mezrick and Iaron both died in an accident during a hunt. Serina was so grief-stricken that she died of a broken heart the next morning. It left Ismahel in charge, and though he wanted to leave, he knew he should try to carry on the torch for the sake of his family, and had dreams of one day creating a large pride. While he has no idea of what is going on in the Pridelands, he knows he may have to become involved one day, as much as he wants to keep to himself.


OOC Alias: Violet
Best Way to Contact: PM
Rp Sample:
Watching from his lofty height, his blue eyes was watching the world for as far away as he could. He looked almost like a ghost, standing amongst the snow. The cold wind whipped around his body and tossed his mane about. His tail even swayed lightly to the force of the wind. At least he had a nice coat to protect him from it. His mind was wandering, as he thought on what sort of life the other lions had down there. His ears were raised and he wondered what life was like in the Pridelands right now. He had heard they were well allied, but had not met the king or anything since the passing of his parents. That tragic day still echoed in his mind entirely. Of course, Ismahel was not about to let it really bother him.

The sun was shining upon the blanket of snow that spread across the pride lands. He looked behind him to view it better. It was always an amazing sight, no matter how many times he had seen it. It was almost as though each time were new to him. Perhaps it was in his own blue eyes. His tail flicked idly as he looked back down to the lands below. Of course, Ismahel was sitting upon one of the cliffs that jutted out from the mountains that he lived on. It had been so quiet here since his family left. The white lion was not sure what he was going to do now. Perhaps he should try to find a few lionesses for his pride, but where to even begin? He could go try to fight for some, or perhaps he could head to the Pridelands to explain his situation. Who was the king again? Oh, he could not remember really.

Some king he was. Already, he had shown how incompetent he was with not even knowing the name of his supposed allies. Were they still allies? Or had the passage of time with no word from one another ended that? Today was the day. Ismahel was going to head down from his lofty mountain to visit the Pridelands. He had to meet with their sister allies and see what was going on. Moving from the cliff he was sitting upon, Ismahel began to make his way down the winding paths that led outside of his pride. Perhaps it was time to show that there was a pride living here still? Suddenly he stopped as a thought came to him. Ismahel sat down where he was. What would happen should he show his face to the king of the Pridelands? Did this mean he would have to get involved with whatever was going on? Surely there would be some peace along there. It was probably nothing worth worrying about. The white lion again began his descent down toward the pride lands below to go visit his supposed "friends".

Approved!

Also, the rank of King has been given to your lion as well.