Name: Chael
Gender: Male
Age: 12 years old
Eye Color: His eyes are ice blue with a thin yellow ring around his pupils.
Appearance: He has a black over coat with white husky markings. His legs and paws are black. The tips of his toes on all four feet are tinted red. He is 36 inches tall and his healthy weight is 170, but he is generally around 140-150 due to his low position in the pack. He is solidly built and even when he’s not at his healthiest, he’s a hard wolf to fling around in a fight. He is a very handsome wolf, generally eye-catching, and if he’s healthy, one might say striking. Basically, this ref, but with black legs and paws that are tinged red: link (PS totally found that after I wrote this description! I was very excited. –dances-)
Personality: Raziel is incapable of feeling hate and doesn’t have the urge for violence. He is stand offish and generally quiet. He appears if one of his pack mates need it or demand it, but otherwise is a shadow on the edges of the pack. He has a high tolerance for pain. He also becomes obsessive over small things sometimes and as a result, works himself into a frenzy where he’ll inflict self-damage. He would never, however, hurt another packmate or another wolf during one of these fits (should anyone witness one – they generally only happen “off screen” when he’s alone). He enjoys hearing news of the world since he is confined to the territory of Iromar unless otherwise instructed (this rule was self-made because he’s convinced himself that it’s taboo to leave the territory). So, in summary, he’s not completely right in the brain, but he’s totally capable of normal (and pleasant) conversation.
History/Plot: He’s been in Iromar since his birth and became the servitor. We’ll just say he was MIA since the meteor stuck XP. I asked Stormie about this too, and they were okay with it. I would love for the Iromar pack to play along with me on this, but it is your choice. Very possibly, they could not know his name and only know of him… but whatever is fine. :)
Imprintability: Imprintable
Ooc: Toulouse
Sample:
“Let the woes of war be mine. Let me hold our defeat. My brethren fought honorably and soaked the ground in blood. Let it stain their coats and fill their minds with pride,” Chael whispered to himself in prayer. He had not seen the war, for he had only just found his pack, but his heart thudded against his chest when he saw the pain the pack had suffered – the pain meant for him. His chest tightened and his breath came in short gasps. It was his fault. He had not been there as the pack’s shield and all that agony explode and attempted to burn the paws of his fellow pack mates. Chael short breath stopped all together a moment before he released it in a forced huff.
War was glorious for his pack, though. The thrill of sinking their teeth into flesh, of tearing down enemies, of blood pooling onto the ground! The demons needed this. Chael was convinced, but in the depths of his heart, he was sad. He flinched away from the stone on his heart, blaming it on his cursed angel-touched soul. His mutated soul affected his appearance and marred his black coat with white husky markings. He blinked and lifted a paw and started purposefully cleaning away the dirt caked between his toes in an attempt to save his mind from the path it was taking. No amount of pondering could change the fact that he was born with white. So instead, he looked affectionately at his red tinged toes.
They surely were the reason he was alive; the only reason his parents hadn’t killed him at birth. They marked him as Burned by Hell. He was touched by the demon’s line and because of this mark, was the keeper of secrets for the pack. In his rank, it was surprising how true the meaning of it was. He held the pains of all his pack members, after all. And what better secret to keep than what ailed his beloved brothers and sisters? As servitor, he pulled a heavy weight for the pack. Chael had convinced himself long ago of the honor of the role. After all, who could survive such a rank without crumbling into dust other than one Burned by Hell?
Chael spat the dirt from his beloved black, red tinged toes on to the ground. After grooming himself well away from the space of the pack, he returned to them and crept around the edges of the other wolves, heading for the bones of some prey animal that were left over and hopefully forgotten. He glanced around nervously as he approached the pile a step at a time. He hadn’t eaten in a day and a half. The twisting pang of hunger in his stomach was not a new feeling and hardly bothered him (he gone much longer without a decent meal before), but it was a signal that he had to eat. His instincts had guided him towards the food. With any luck, he could snatch a bone and make off with it before another wolf decided they wanted the pile.
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