Species: "Skinny vulpine JP raptor" would be an apt description if anybody knew about Jurassic Park. Unfortunately, the critter's version of Earth never had Steven Spielberg (his would-be equivalent died of lung failure on a Tuesday) and wouldn't get the reference.
Age: In their younger adolescence.
Gender: None/agender, but responds to just about any pronouns but he/him.
Appearance: If your first instinct upon meeting a stranger goes towards horribly inaccurate comparisons with familiar Earthen creatures, they may look slightly like a large bipedal fox with a saurian flair. Just slightly. Their face is vulpine enough, with large pointed ears, vertically slit-pupiled eyes and a slim muzzle, but instead of teeth they have rough, sharp plates of horn behind the lips -- a beak of sorts for both crushing and slicing. Smooth, rust-colored, snake-like scales cover most their body, but their back (from the nape of the neck to their sides to the middle of the tail) has a cape of soft, dark grey filaments. Its texture is like silky fur, but not quite. They stand like a bird, leaning forwards slightly on slim digitigrade hind legs with smaller forelegs pulled against the body (in a manner not unlike a gerbil), long claws folded back, and a long, slightly flexible tail tilted up like a checkmark. They're 2'11" tall and about two-and-a-half times that in length -- small for their age -- but tend to slink around and end up looking a lot smaller as a result.
Quiet | They can certainly speak the common language of most creatures in the forest, but they never really had a good, long chat with a friend. Most humans who don't know them just freak out and run, and their family was not a very close one, so they led a solitary existence for quite a while. Due to lack of any good practice, they're an awkward conversationalist at best and are quite soft-spoken, easily cowed by sharp words, and taken to pausing or mumbling. (Their hearing is also pretty good, so the words that they'd think were spoken as loud and clear would be quite a bit softer to most others.)
Curious | They enjoy mental exploration and learning new things, often derailing from their original goals to poke around with vigorous interest when faced with something new, exciting, and probably safe. They love messing around with technology (though the new things often end up held and chewed on and usually don't leave the experience perfectly intact), though they dislike the loopy sorts (leashes, ropes, etc.) and take their time carefully avoiding them. The puzzles and treats that the odd man leaves out for crows and cats are always worth investigation, though.
Prudent | That said, they are very much a cautious little thing. Acting odd or overly excited around humans (or anything, for that matter) had tended to end in screaming and pain on one or both ends of the relationship, so they try to be as nonthreatening as possible for first impression's sake. Just so that they don't end up kicked in the head, that wasn't fun. Once both sides know each other, then they can get all curious about everything again.
Inflexible | They like having a consistent territory or a place to call their own. Despite enjoying novelty in small amounts, the baits are only taken when the critter is in a tried and tested safe place, and they do not like suddenly getting moved to a new location. Though their routine is usually a little chaotic, they do have a routine and become quite anxious when it gets disrupted.
Fair | They try to treat everyone with the same respect as they would enjoy, no matter who or what that person is. It tends to be easier that way, with more people willing to help them out when they get into a tight spot. And they found that it just feels better than laughing behind some person's back.
Follower | They're not a leader. They never had the confidence to bring a group together, not to mention that having a large, tiered group structure just felt inherently odd to them.
- Their sharp front claws are pretty good weapons if they ever needed to fight, but they're not enhanced in any way and aren't strong enough to cut or stab through anything like bone or metal.
- Their rather small size makes them agile, able to squeeze through large cracks to escape the enemy or dodge its attack and respond in kind.
- They are most definitely speedy when they need to be, but it's more like a sprint without much endurance. The problem with just running away is that, although they are swift enough to leave a sizable gap between themself and the attacker, they tire too fast just going in a straight line and are easily overtaken after ten or fifteen minutes.
- They can pack a nasty bite with that horny beak of theirs.
- They have full color vision, able to see everything humans can. It's slightly brighter, though, thanks to their slit pupils.
- Their voice is slightly feminine, lighter and higher than a male's would be.
- They are reptilian and warm-blooded most of the time, but when they aren't eating enough to move around as usual, they can help themselves along with a little sunbathing. It doesn't leave them any less hungry, but they get at least a little energy to go find food.
- They're a pretty good climber, sharp claws on all paws digging into the bark. Of course, it doesn't work as well with unbarked logs.
- They're fascinated by humans. First impressions were pretty horrible, but they chose to stay and ended up welcomed by one after a while. It was quite the amazing experience for them, one they always kept in the back of their mind as evidence that first impressions aren't always everything. Humans also look and talk very different from any other things they’d met before, and they like trying to puzzle out what passersby are talking about when they chatter on the street to a little flat box.
- Around their neck is a pink fabric dog collar with a silver tag saying “Lucy” on the front and contact information on the back. They still haven’t actually figured out what it means, though it is precious to them.
Known History: They did have a family, they supposed, but it wasn't around all that much. A few minutes at most after they hatched, that's what they remembered. Small ones like them, but bigger -- probably their siblings -- crowding around and carried by the parents. Then the family was gone into the grass, leaving them at the nest in the middle of the meadow, the runt of the clutch.
They survived well enough without the parental guidance. Hunting and foraging were pretty much in their instincts, though it certainly took a few tries before catching the first meat, and longer before they stopped eating berries without watching another animal first. Of course, it was a miracle that they weren't eaten by one of the native species without the parents around to scare the beasts off, but they were a quick learner. Hide before sundown and the killers can't bite. (Just like Minecraft.)
The meadow they lived in for the first years of their life was near a small town. At first, they were shy and reclusive, just peeking around the sides of roads to the brick, metal, and concrete forest beyond. When they didn't meet with any horrible things right off the bat, they ventured further, crossing the streets to the little stands of trees around a clinic. There weren't very many animals around there, but it was warm enough, and safe from predators, which seemed to avoid the place. It didn't seem like a very bad place to make a territory. A few weeks later, everything was going smooth. They were getting curious, though, about the tall straight creatures that kept walking around their new nest, chattering in a language that they didn't understand. It was strange... and intriguing. They'd never seen any of the creatures hurt anything, and they even seemed to be friends with the noisy things they kept on ropes.
Then they truly met their first human, who thoroughly explained exactly why predators didn't come there: the humans were even worse! At least the killers in the meadow didn't chase them around for days on end with wailing trucks, sapping their energy until they couldn't even stand, and then choke them and throw them into a tiny den to rot. At least claws and fangs were quick.
A week or two into the miserable caged-life, a human came marching in and stood in front of their cage. He looked kinder than the others they'd seen, probably due to the lack of disgust curling his lips. He actually looked interested. He was certainly interesting, with how he acted. The man took them out of the cage gently, put them on a soft cushion in his truck, fed them some delicious meat, and just acted bizarre. Didn't he feel disgusted?
Apparently not, because he kept being kind to them until the day they escaped.
How did your character find these lands?: The window was left open that day, and they had wanted to stretch their legs. Usually they would have run to the man's bed and paw him awake so that he'd know where they'd be, but he was travelling somewhere and they didn't know how to speak his language, even though they now understood some of it. So they jumped on the couch and squeezed out the window.
They had intended on returning after just an hour, but something caught their eye. A gleaming pinkish light just floating in midair. (My lawn flamingo turned Will 'O Wisp.) It was probably not anything to be messed with, but curiosity got the best of them. They skulked forwards, noting that it seemed dry and catching a weirdly sandy scent. They poked their snout forwards just a little too far...
Anything Else We Need to Know?: They're an omnivore, but they aren't a good hunter and just get their meat by scavenging (or, in their few years of living in a house, from wet, microwaved cat food). Still, they greatly praise meat for its rarity and take it whenever they can find it.
First RP in these lands: They had no idea where the sand would end.
They had been walking for at least a day, maybe more -- the sun seemed like it was always there whenever they opened their eyes after a nap, and it didn't look like it was going down soon. It was too hot here, even for their -pseudo-cold-blooded body. They growled under their breath in frustration, coughing slightly as their dry throat was irritated. "I like consistency, but don't tell me that I'm going to be in this sand-place forever...."
The growl tapered off into a whimper as they thought about it, stopping in their tracks as they mulled through the possibilities. They could be stuck in this place forever! They could die of thirst. The man would be so sad and worried, why couldn't they find that pink light again and just go back to him? Why did that light take them here of all places? Why did night never fall here? Of all their pressing, worried thoughts, that was the one that irked them the most for some reason. It just made no sense. Their ears, drooping with sadness just a moment ago, now flicked up in irritation. Night was a good time, sleeping or awake. After all, it was when the man's plants bloomed for the first time....
Plants. Where there were plants, there was water. They just had to find a plant, one that wasn't spiny and stung at their mouth when they tried to bite it. Just find something green.
They looked around, desperately searching for something that wasn't beige, cracked sand and blue-grey sky. There was a weird fuzz around the center of their vision when they looked forwards, and they blinked a few times to clear it. "Wait," they muttered, cocking their head and staring at the fuzz. "That's... is that grass?"
It took a few moments for their thirst-addled mind to understand what their confused voice was getting at. Grass... It was a meadow, like their first home! There was finally water! Yes! They jumped for joy and lunged forwards, towards the only familiar thing in this horrid wasteland.