Hiro

Hiro has always been an interesting lad.
His father had been a brute of a wolf, feared and respected by all. Prowess in battle matched with wise leadership of his pack had made him something of a legend. He had many brutish sons in his life, some wiser than others but all strong like him...
Until Hiro.
The runt of the litter that had never grown much; but an 'old soul' his mother had called him.
Hiro was never interested in wrestling with his brothers, nor his father's battle lessons. Instead, he preferred to stare at the sky and stars above him- to listen to the old tales of his grandpaw's- and to venture out into unknown forests in search of faeries and waterhorses.
It had been during one such adventure that he found 'magic' (or at least he believes so) After dodging the geriatric pupsitter, sprinting across the moors and following will-o-the-wisps, the pup had missed a step and gone sliding into a mossy pool. A faint glow rising from the watery depths had sent the panicked pup scrambling for the shore. He had returned home soaked and sporting green stained fur. Despite the passing of years, the green had stayed- new fur grown in sharing the mossy hue. Hiro often wondered if the forest had blessed him on that fateful night; others called it a curse.

As a teen Hiro had been an outcast among his kin. His disinterest im battle and odd adventures had given him a reputation among the surrounding packs; many thinking him weak in body and mind. He had ignored it, though, and continued his excursions. That's when the forest had blessed him once again (or at least he believes so). Following the most intoxicating scent had led him to a she-wolf, and he instantly fell hard for her.
Despite his awkwardness at first, Eleanora had been enraptured by his theories and stories. She invited him into her pack, and later as her mate. Hiro slowly come into his own after that. An accomplished scout, loving father and upstanding pack member. His wise counsel never unheard by those around him.