Character Bio
His name is Sherlock

Sherlock is aged to a good 7 years.
Obviously, this wolf is a male.
If eyes are windows to the soul, Sherlock's has been jaded. Varying shades of this light green bounce around in his irises to make quite a bright and vibrant display.

Sherlock is an amazing forty-two (42) inches in height and a staggering two hundred (200) pounds. The bulk of his mass goes to hard, yet lean muscle, and his height can be attributed to his long legs. He would seem a skinny and lanky thing if not for the cords of wiry muscle that cover him. The base of his fur is a dark brown that looks almost black. The bottom jaw, a bit of his throat, chest and his underbelly are covered in a chestnut brown. The backs of his legs, toes and the under-tail are all the same shade of brown, though Sherlock does sport one other color. White can be found on his toes, and there is the barest hint of it on his chest. Scars litter his face and ears with their inconsequential being, he has already seen many fights and somehow has always managed to come out on top.

He is very much in tact, able to imprint.

I was a happy puppy, finding joy in the simplest of events or sights. I was excitable and almost strange in my studies of those around me. The constant watch of others upset them and had them avoid me, but I didn't need them. I only needed the knowledge they held within their collective skulls, their avoidance made procuring such a thing from them nearly impossible. How does a puppy force others to interact with him?

I went on for years like this, being ignored and avoided as though I had the plague. It isn't until later that I come to a wolf on my travels who was willing to teach me what I was already trying to learn. I came to read the small body signs of others, hear the fluctuation in their voices when they were lying to me. My learning came to a screeching halt when that wolf died, murdered by a pack of wolves who figured the old bat had harmed them in some way. The knowledge I shared and gained from him remained.

Tracking, killing, reasoning and finding the truth are my life now. I come to this place to rid myself of the memory of my mentor, to immerse myself into the work I have to do. Moladion seems a cesspool of violent activity, I will find the root and pluck it out. It's my job to do this.

I am known as Deimos
I have indeed read your rules.
I believe the word count is 200, correct me if I am wrong.
Word of mouth brought me here, been lurking around a few days to check out activity.

My email is xxbring.the.painxx@gmail.com
My chatango is xxbringxthexpainxx

I was born on April 19th in 1989