Vehiron Renatus

Name: Vehiron Renatus

Gender: Male

Age: Vehiron has been breathing the air on this world for four years.

Pack: ES  

Rank Requested: Fighter
Rank Requested:
Hunter

Appearance:
Like the night, he is stained in bedim and moon glow. A dark taupe encompasses his being, lacking the familiar markings of the standard Timber wolf mask. A bluish off-white fleeces his underbelly, beginning at the throat all the way down to his plumelike tail. The back of his head, neck, and shoulders are doused in oily black. Furthermore, those three places are irregularly dense with fur, giving him a curious sort of wolf mullet.

Savagery lines the contours of his body, sculpting him into something misleadingly dangerous: a rare fusion of pure power and rapidity, neither overpowering the other. His hindquarters are structured for dexterity while his upper body is solely for raw, explosive power.
Those bedroom discriminations - lenient, nimble pthalo blue with a tint of lunacy to them. With the softest tinge of indigo at the sides do his eyes embody who he is, delimited by blackness, boyish lashes forming empty frowns. Speciously engaging, woe to those who wander too close for a better look...

His company, be they male or she-wolf, can feel a sense of disquietude from his disproportionate, fractious leer. His face has been marked from one end to the other, coming to fade away on the right of his muzzle. A mark of assassination, fore his blemished mien either warrants apprehension, cynicism or, possibly, admiration. Vehiron is a manifest entity with the looks of a refined debauchee, and who's to say that he isn't? But there's more to him than meets the eye.

Photo:

(A friend of mine made this. I would like to thank them.)

History:
Vehiron has lived the normal childhood of a pack animal. He climbed his way higher in ranks, but soon became bored of this pack. He left in search of something new.


Personality:
Instinctual. There is always an expression in his eyes that advocates thinly shackled urges of ferocity and a regressive nature that ties him to his species. Vehiron is not one to shrug off instinctual impulses, but neither is he so rudimentary in his way of reasoning. He is a wolf first, and reasonably sentient the second. Above all, he considers in restraint...unless provoked. He is not above acts of aggression or petty dislike. Moreover, there are times in which instinct cancels out sentience, and he is left wanting; suspended in a moment of dubiety. More often than not, he leans toward his bestial whim, even if his actions are misplaced in a delicate state of affairs.

Blunt. This coincides with his primal nature, but this needs to be touched upon. Rarely does he see the use of innuendos. The sky is blue, the grass is green – nothing beyond that.
To Vehiron, romanticism is unneeded, but he does not despise those who speak flowery words or verses. But in times of strife – namely war – he is quite intolerant. There is nothing resplendent in raiding, murdering, thieving or enslaving. He is acquainted with such iniquitous acts. They haunt him at night still.

Sympathetic. An open mind gives way to an open heart. The same could be said of Vehiron. Witness to brutality imposed upon the inculpable strikes him hard, for he knows pain. Whether of the mind of body, he knows both intimately so. Making it a habit to go out of his way to console and orientate, it is improbable for Vehiron to snub the tears of a youngster, the distress of a widow, or the soul weighed down with mounting obligations and drama. He has a big heart and he is more than willing to share it. Seldom does he relieve closed books without asking questions first. Being condolent does not liken to stupidity.

awsome wolf