Post by Larka Kurahia on Nov 5, 2005 17:57:12 GMT -5
Name: Larka Kurahia
Age IRL: Thirteen
What job you want: Vetrinarian
Why you should have this job: Because I'm often a Vetrinarian in other dreams, since I'm so obsessed with becoming one in real life, and I have quite a bit of knowledge and expirience with medical stoofz. I'm also really active. I get on Furcadia every day. <3
A sample post of atleast 3 lines: Larka looked opened the cabin door in concern. It made a squealing sound, and she winced. She had been called here earlier about an injured dog, and she had ran the entire way to check. Near the fire, a canine lay. His mouth was open in an exhausted pant. His owner sat beside him, stroking his thick ebony fur. Larka bent over the dog, examining his leg. It had been gouged open on the sled runners. She opened a small white box, which she carried around with her everywhere. She pulled a roll of gauze and a bottle out, then some cottonballs. She dipped the cottonballs in the alchohal and instructed the owner to hold his dog down. The alchohal would probably sting, but she didn't want the wound to be infected. After cleaning his leg thoughrougly, she unrolled a bit of the gauze and began to wrap it around his leg. She covered it completely.
"Don't let him walk until later today. You can move his food and water bowls toward him. If he insists on walking, try to help him up. But don't let him run for at least a week. He should stay inside for a few more days, too. In four days I'll come back to check on him. Good luck!" she called before patting the injured husky on the head and walking out the door.
Age IRL: Thirteen
What job you want: Vetrinarian
Why you should have this job: Because I'm often a Vetrinarian in other dreams, since I'm so obsessed with becoming one in real life, and I have quite a bit of knowledge and expirience with medical stoofz. I'm also really active. I get on Furcadia every day. <3
A sample post of atleast 3 lines: Larka looked opened the cabin door in concern. It made a squealing sound, and she winced. She had been called here earlier about an injured dog, and she had ran the entire way to check. Near the fire, a canine lay. His mouth was open in an exhausted pant. His owner sat beside him, stroking his thick ebony fur. Larka bent over the dog, examining his leg. It had been gouged open on the sled runners. She opened a small white box, which she carried around with her everywhere. She pulled a roll of gauze and a bottle out, then some cottonballs. She dipped the cottonballs in the alchohal and instructed the owner to hold his dog down. The alchohal would probably sting, but she didn't want the wound to be infected. After cleaning his leg thoughrougly, she unrolled a bit of the gauze and began to wrap it around his leg. She covered it completely.
"Don't let him walk until later today. You can move his food and water bowls toward him. If he insists on walking, try to help him up. But don't let him run for at least a week. He should stay inside for a few more days, too. In four days I'll come back to check on him. Good luck!" she called before patting the injured husky on the head and walking out the door.