|name| Kane

|age| 2 years, 7 months

|faction| curs; Bluestone pack

|Rank| Beta

|personality|
Reverent; Much like the traitorous gene found in wolfhounds, Kane is intensely loyal. Of course, not to humanity (whom he despises by default), but to those he deems worthy of his loyalty. As a creature with high respect to that he describes as the law, his loyalty borders devotion, particularly to those that he views as being in power. This trait of his makes for a silent and dutiful beta, with almost ritualistic behavior. Kane is highly aware of his place in his pack, yet he does not particularly have a subordinate demeanor  (around here, that would be a certain death wish), rather, he views his fellow packmates in a very hierarchal manner, and therefore knows his own place in this self-imposed hierarchy.

Pragmatic; Along with being lawful, Kane is a serious and orderly wolf. He is a reliable beta, and has an obsession with maintaining order and control; if he's had a bad day, sometimes one paw out of line could make him snap. He is an honorable creature as well, possessing his own strict personal code. Because of this, he is highly observant of how others treat him, and he holds grudges easily. On the other hand, Kane is also a very truthful wolf, for he personally finds it difficult to lie, or that would be dishonorable on himself (he is, however, intelligent enough to know when it is nessesary to lie).
Kane is a very calculating wolf, and is certainly not just all bark and no bite.
He is not a mindless killer, but his moral ambiguity and eagerness to deliver punishment in the word of the law makes him an efficent killer. He is unafraid to fight to protect himself and the social structure he enforces so strictly. He likes to make sure other wolves know their places as well, and he has an underlying need to please his alpha. Most of all, Kane has a deep hatred for the wolfhounds. He takes their ancestor's betrayal as a personal attack on himself, and would not be hesitant to rip the throats out of the nearest wolfhound litter.

Delusional; Despite how in control he would like to believe himself to be, Kane is secretly, and subconsciously, very detached from reality. He is a creature who lives inside of his own head, and has created an image for himself and for the world around him that is without flaw; an ideal reality that his current life cannot match up to. He falsely believes that his own doctrines and rules apply to everything in life, and could become unstable when faced with something that challenges his belief. He is highly unaware of this, but will do anything to keep his own order and tradition. At it's worst, his definition of 'anything' could easily be deadly, and has the potential to breach any sanity he may have been displaying before.

|description|
Kane wears a coat painted with a varient of greys. Most noticeable of his appearance is the black marking on his face resembling a raccoon's mask, followed by an equally as dark stripe down his back. His paws fade to black as if dipped in ink, and his thick tail tapers out in a similar fashion. Kane has coarse, well groomed fur, that grows out longer and sticks out along the back of his neck, almost giving it a mane - like appearance.

His eyes are a ridiculous orange-amber color, striking out oddly against the dark fur circling his eyes. He is of average size, with defined, lean muscle, and a regal stance. His ears are large and tufted; his muzzle narrow, with a dark colored jaw hiding rows of sharp teeth underneath. He has a white beard of fur that starts at his chin and flares out on his chest, before fading into light grey.

|history|
The story of Kane's pup-hood is not unlike many other curs who ended up in the Bluestone pack. The fact that he never knew his parents is not a unique feat. He was thrust into intense training at a very young age like the rest.

However traumatic Kane's training was, he could not recall it, since the trauma has long been internalized. Kane had one of the strictest trainers around, who predominately used a method of dwindling out the weak. One anomaly of Kane's training was the fact that he enjoyed it. Once he got used to the harsh life, he found himself appreciating the structure of it all, and the 'survival of the fittest' tactic that was used. He liked how he was constantly pushed to better himself, with nothing but his life on the line. It was a fearful and painful time, but Kane grew to be greatful for it. He was very understanding of the world he lived in, a world where he had to win to survive.

Sometime during his year or so of training, something broke in Kane. It was not uncommon, and almost all wolves found themselves using unconcious coping methods to deal with the harshness of it all. Kane's was his false reality. His strict training taught him to cling onto the law like it was the word of god. He found himself filing everyone and everything into categories based on their probability of surving, and whom was going to be easiest to target and elminate from competition.

Kane completed his training and found himself sent to the Bluestone pack at a young age. He quickly asserted himself as a strong willed wolf, and was reconizable for his love of giving orders.
Kane was quick to climb the ranks simply because of his devotion and lawful behavior. While not the strongest or most cold-blooded wolf, he was an asset because he was good at keeping control. Despite being still quite young for a beta, Kane holds his position proudly.

|bloodied marks| (Roll for me?)

|STATS|
  combat: x
  luck: x
  healing: n/a

|ROLEPLAY SAMPLE|
From a human roleplay I did a while ago

Glinting in the dying rays of the setting sun, the golden coin twisted in the air before landing between a pair of nimble fingers. Two pale eyes leveled with the coin, observing as it was flicked into the air again, before being caught once more. Lucien sighed lowly and shifted his gaze to the window of the car, leaning back slightly in his seat and pursing his lip as he turned the small coin around in his hand.

This situation made him incredibly suspicious and admittedly uneasy, but is was thrilling all the same. He had certainly not planned for, or forseen, the fact that a small gold coin would appear tucked in a metal crevice of his almost-complete project. What was most curious to him was the fact that no one should have been able to have access to his highly guarded workspace. He had checked all of the surveillance cameras four times, scanned the coin, taken under his belt hours of research; yet had come up with close to nothing. That's what upset him the most, the fact that this situation entirely out of his control. Lucien was more than used to greeting a situation with an exponential amount of knowledge already gathered on it.
Therefore, he had made sure to prepare himself as best as he could, since this surely was an exciting ordeal. Lucien felt like he had been waiting for this opportunity for a while. A man like him could do the world good if he was given the chance to use his skills to the fullest; at least, that's what he belived.

Gravel cracked under the sleek black car as it pulled to a stop in front of the address on Lucien's coin. The young man peered out of his window at the looming dark shape before him. Well, a menacing mountain was somewhere on his mental list of possibilities. Now, if this did reveal itself to be a top secret base, Lucien may as well have himself a good laugh at the cliché nature of it all.

After thanking the driver, whom he had bribed to take him up here without uttering a word about his departure (the bribe was only used to get him to take him here of course. Lucien had made sure that his driver wouldn't remember a thing), Lucien stepped out of the car. He grabbed his small case, packed with only the nessesities, and stepped out into the weak sunlight while the car drove away.

Lucien pocketed the coin, his designer dress shoes crunching dirt and gravel as he followed the crude pathway to what seemed like an entrance to the mountain. His eyes moved over key locations, where he, as predicted, found a few hidden cameras tucked away. A top secret base was becoming more plausible now...

His gaze snapped forward when he picked up sounds of another presence; two, in fact (and one of them of alarming and intriguing non-human form), when he shined his flashlight into the darkness. A grin touched the corners of Lucien's lips.

"Ah, so I'm not the only one. I hope you fellas smile for the cameras," he spoke with his typical sardonic tone, stepping forward and casting his light over the wall, one he was guessing was hiding some kind of door.

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H E R M E S

" THE HOOKS HAVE BEEN PICKING THEIR SCABS
WHERE WOLVES HIDE IN THE COMPANY OF MEN
IT SAID I'M LOST "


[ A g e ] : 2 Years , 9 Months.

[ F a c t i o n ] : WolfHounds; Snake Eaters.

[ R a n k ]: Big Brother.

[ P e r s o n a l i t y ]:

|___FUSTRATED___|
With so much rage and blood thirst in his being, it's not surprise Hermes is rarely satisfied. Constantly hungering for more, he has an irritable mood a lot of the time.

|___VIOLENT___|
He will kill, wound, and decapitate anything for sport. He thrives on blood - practically showers himself with it. Violence is so strong in his being his trust is question. Murder is his passion, and it even worries his brethren at times..

|___HOT HEADED___|
With so much aggressive in his veins, he struggles to keep control but can keep a calm façade affront his foes and brethren alike. He is labeled as sick by those who have met him and feared by those who hear of him.

|___LOYAL___|
Despite his twisted nature, he is Loyal towards those he deems as worthy of his protection. Such as his own Litter.


[ D e s c r i p t i o n]: Hermes I Do Not Claim This Art I got Permission from the Rightful Owner

[ H i s t o r y ]: Wip

[ B l o o d i e d M a r k s ] : 16

STATS:

[ C o m b a t ]:

[ L u c k ]:

[ H e a l i n g ] :

[ ROLEPLAY SAMPLE ]:

Cool ground felt like reprieve against feverish flesh. Back facing the blind man assuming he stood a comfortable distance away from he and the tiger beast. Mind bogged with questions he wanted to pay no mind to – to carry on about his self-loathing and doubt, coveting his lantern light. Absently he would listen to the rolling purr of his feline beast as lounged so lazily on the ground. Striped tail thumped nostalgically against hard surface to the beat of the rhythmic thunder. Long tail sprawled around the ground, hairs draping over any standing stone that decorated the cave. Jackals words stung his ears in which he would scoff to him, wanting nothing more than to be left alone and to pick out the pieces and to solve the puzzle on his own without him looming over his shoulder. Do not you wonder at my eccentricities weary man? he heard him, black nose would shift to the left, he on his right. Muted plum ears twitched absently with a question remaining unanswered. Even I: trapped in the mazes of my mind - why should you be allowed to choose when - when I cannot? Aztec would scoff sharply as he rolled on to his side before a slow rise. He would not look to him right away. "No.” he would answer instead, a curt retort would hiss so coldly from raven lips. "Only the deranged would consider to walk along the crevice of your own mad mind.” words would still slur between the process of sleep stirred from wake – irate and partially disoriented but cohesive and comprehensive.

As for your mental misery; My true purpose of entertaining your presence: Why worry for your Sibling, hm? he, of any, can care most for hisself in times of danger. His question seemed as if it struck a nerve. Nineve was one of the few the acerbus man cared deeply for. He envied and despised him also with a jealousy unlike any other. But such tendencies remained closed away from the world that even his once breathing sister would never know. "What concerns are of yours for you to question?” he asked him, tone lingered with fogged restlessness betwixt his waking form. Dark ears flicked absently, white flame teased glass as if to reach out to the envious man. Nickel-white eyes watched his flame as the Envy fire danced with jovial measure. Expression remained dimmed with stoic frown upon pursed lips. He was angry that his mind was tampered with – and with greater ease far more than he was able to comprehend at the time. Aggravated that the blind mad man was there, wasting his breath with the ugly duckling. Amethyst gem sparked light electrical current which rested around his neck with black leather string. His magics pulsed his nerves, claws dug against the ground with earth-plant element.

He'd never coax, but stubbornly enough he'd attempt to find an escape route. Citrus fruit sprouted from vine and leaf, plump and ripe. With a simple tap of his paw the orange rolled towards the indigo wolf, stopping at his paws. "No games.” ||
"!"

OTHER: 2

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