Diesel Smoke

ID #10957007

Owned by blacklight
Bred by Unknown
View Previous Packs

Level	19

Strength *	249
Speed	115
Agility *	188
Wisdom	87
Smarts	95
Total	734

This wolf cannot be retired right now!

Family

Wardrobe

This wolf has been leading Fenrir's Fallen since 2024-11-02 01:26:32.

Currents
Age	2 years 2½ months (Adult)
Sex	Male Chased
Energy
Hunger
HP
Personality	Combative

Breeding Information
Age in Rollovers	53
Pups Bred	94 pups bred
Last Bred	1 day ago
For Stud	Yes
Stud Price	1 or 200
Items Applied	None!
Pair Bond	None

Looks
Base	Slate (0.18%)
Base Genetics	Monochrome Dark III
Eyes	Smoke
Skin	Lusxnei
Nose	Umbral
Claws	Umbral
Mutation	None
Secondary Mutation	None
Carrier Status	View Report
Variant	Relaxed

Markings
Slot 1	Black Crawl (100% : T5)
Slot 2	Black Head Stripe (100% : T1)
Slot 3	None
Slot 4	Rufous Wings Heavy (40% : T6)
Slot 5	Dark Brown Freckles (100% : T3)
Slot 6	Zircon Dilution (50% : T6)
Slot 7	Aspen Inuit Unders (30% : T7)
Slot 8	Cedar Tamaskan Unders (32% : T7)
Slot 9	White Paws (87% : T1)
Slot 10	Aspen Tamaskan Unders (20% : T7)

Biography

Initial Stats: 270

https://www.wolvden.com/wolf/10957007 Diesel and his smokey eyes draw you in... fancy a night with this NBW slate boy? 200 :sc : or 1 :gc :

Bought From Carrie for 150sc
Used 22 RMAs, 19 Marking Removers, 1 Freckles App (had in hoard), 4 Opacity Changers.
Combined cost of marking customizing (excluding event currency) = 89 GC
Relaxed pose for 3gc
Various decor + BG: 1000sc + [5gc & 200sc] + 15gc= 20gc 1200sc
Diesel had always been very meticulous about his looks, sometimes spending stretches of time bathing in rivers and grooming his fur to perfection. So the blood caked under his claws and speckled along his muzzle and face was quite bothersome.

The elderly wolf beneath him choked, coughing up more blood. This little shot splattered across Diesel's lengthy neck fur, and he sighed inwardly when he thought of how long it would take to clean.

"We could've done this the easy, clean way," Diesel said, mildly annoyed. "An old wolf like you never stood a chance, no matter how many cougars you've killed."

Dax struggled, trying to knock the younger, stronger wolf off balance. It was futile, the stranger was heavy and powerful.

"In your prime, I would never have stood a chance," Diesel mused, talking as if they were contemplating the weather. "But you've grown old, and weak. And you don't have your precious pack to help you."

Diesel had waited for the perfect moment to strike. He'd watched the pack and its leader for weeks, plotting and planning and monitoring and waiting. He chose the time the lead would be at his weakest: on his way back from exploring the boarderlands, after multiple fights with wolves and buck and bears, in the dead of a moonless night. He had pounced, and after a short but bloody fight, managed to get Dax to submit.

"What. Do you. Want," Dax snarled through bubbles of pain and blood. Well, whaddya know? The old geezer still had fight in him.

"Your pack," Diesel said, a little smile on his face. "I usually get what I want. So it's only a matter of whether you are going to instate me yourself, or I go and claim the pack according to rights after I rip your heart out."

Dax growled, but he knew it was only fair. This happened in the real world, Diesel had been taught that. He had a couple scars to show for the hard lessons he'd learnt while roaming the plains, and hopefully the new scratch across his snout would be one of the last ones.

Dax wasn't prideful or cowardly or scornful. He was, by all accounts, a wise, just and fair ruler, that cared greatly for his wolves and especially the pups under his care. So Diesel knew that he'd be the perfect wolf to go after.

Dax sighed defeat, probably the first time in many, many years that he had done so. Diesel got off from the gorgeous wolf, claw marks imprinted in his shoulder fur and his sweet little feather earrings slightly bloodstained. Dax refused to look at him as he rose, his lips curling into a silent snarl whenever Diesel got too close. The elder was silent as he began walking, but Diesel knew to follow. He trotted behind with his head held high, his tail in the wind and a bloody smirk on his face.

He felt icky from the dirt matting his fur, but perhaps he could get one of the wolves there to clean him up. He'd spied a beautiful female from a distance away, and he knew that when he got there he'd claim her. His lips curled into a smirk once more. He always, always, got what he wanted.