They called him:
Deimos

He has lived to be:
two (2) years old.

Its clear he is definitely:
a male.

His eyes are beautiful:
Gold rims a deep and wonderful shade of royal purple with darker tones of violet and navy strewn about to give a spectrum of cool colors to gaze at. Within this hodge-podge of coloring, little specks of black are scattered all over the iris except for in the golden rim that surrounds it.

Appearance is everything:
Deimos is a little larger than average, standing at forty inches (40 in.) and weighing about 185 pounds (185lbs.) His fur is thicker and longer than average on his neck, chest, legs, and spine; this makes it harder to bite through and becomes quite the mouthful. He has a frame made for speed and strength and endurance, with the muscled physique of a cross-country star. Deimos has a base coat color of white, though there are some creams and darker tans in his under coat, giving him something of an off-white look.

This is his mentality:
This one was born sick, but he loves it. Deimos has never been one to be told how to act or speak, hell, he doesn't even care for personal space, and for a pup so young, he bears a lot of scars. Violence can erupt if he feels he is not being perceived correctly, though he sends mixed signals out on purpose to offend and anger his target for that day. As a young one, Deimos likes to annoy others to violence, though he gets off on the hurt. Growing up with hallucinations and voices that tell him bad things will not be easy, but maybe we will find something for his socio-psychotic ass.

He can imprint!
I wouldn't be joining him if he couldn't, I want to play all of the game!

Someone has to pull the strings:
Deimos