"What an awful soul you must have been in your past life, if this one led you straight to me."
Character Notes
β Aggressive, greedy, and always itching for a fight
β Takes any opportunity given to him to kill
β Very social with like-minded individuals, but will intentionally pick physical fights with those who aren't
β Craves power and strength
β Extremely cunning and intelligent
β Collects skulls and bones from the wolves he kills as trophies
β Reeks of the scent of blood and death
Lore Notes
β Formed a small party of wolves called "Bandits." These wolves are young, greedy, and aggressive, and kill for fun and pleasure. They do however, serve a purpose. They provide most of the food for all the hunters, since most prey the others bring back goes to the rest of the clan
The smell of old blood wafted through the air here, sending an uneasy chill down your spine. It wasn't just any old blood, no. Chillingly familiar, you knew this to be the blood of a wolf. The ground here was dry, the grass yellowing as it begged for rain to grace it's roots. This part of the grasslands seemed dead, a stark contrast to a large portion of the rest of it. Despite looking so barren, it suddenly felt as if you weren't alone...
A low growl confirmed your suspicions, and a quick turn around revealed the brute behind you. His frame was large and muscular, his chest and shoulders broad and covered with thick dark fur. His bloodhound eyes seemed to pierce through your soul as he stared at you, his expression blank yet hostile. "You're far from home, stranger," The brute growled, taking a strong step towards you. A series of low whines and chuckles began sounding in your ears as three more wolves suddenly appeared, slinking out from the tall dry grass. Their voices eerily mimicked the sound of hyenas as they began to circle, their eyes filled with blood lust and hostility. "Fate has not been kind to you at all, has it?" He spoke, his voice dark and chilling. "We are not so merciful as the rest of our clan. You trespass... you die." The surrounding wolves chuckled, calling to one another with excited howls of hunger and malice. An eerie grin crossed his muzzle as he stared at you, his mouth stained with dark blood. The smell of death wafted strongly off the group, stinging your nose. "Welcome to Deadmaw, my friend."
| 
| G4"
New Moon
Summer
Desert Traveler
Scar: Torn Face
"Companion" African Wild Dog
Beastly Drool
Hunter