Name: Fenrir Kar
Age(in wolf years): 4
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Physical Description (or picture):
The brute's coat was a rather odd combination of blue and grey; the majority of his coat consisting of a dark shade of blue, while his underbelly, neck, and inner thighs were a light shade of gray. At a height of 3.8 feet, the male was fairly large...and not just in height. Ysengrim was, by all means, a fairly corpulent wolf. At 190 pounds (and only a bit of that was muscle!), he was clearly very good at keeping himself fed. Often times, he would look rather intimidating just from his size alone, though at the slightest touch, one would very quickly realize he wasn't much muscle, and was really just a fatty.
Ysengrim also possessed a couple scars around his sides, but they were practically invisible under his coat. His eyes were a rather bland shade of brown, and the insides of his ears a darker shade of grey then his underbelly. His legs were one of the few parts of his body that had any decent amount of muscle on them, and looked a bit thick. One could hardly be surprised though, seeing as they had to carry the brute's girth around all of the time. His paws were fairly large as well, helping the otherwise clumsy wolf to keep his balance...most of the time. His tail was of average length, and not particularly 'fluffy', though it was almost always wagging to and fro around the wolf's large backside. Over all, the wolf gave off the impression of selfishness, even of gluttony at first glance, although anyone that knew Ysengrim personally could attest to the opposite.
Powers (demon, wings, elements, etc): None. Fairly normal.
Personality: For such a big fellow, Ysengrim was a rather shy, timid wolf...almost boarding on the cowardly. He was quick to turn tail and run at the slightest chance of injury. He had a big heart, though, and once having gotten over his shyness, he would be a loyal friend. Still, he did have his weaknesses...he loved eating, of course, but could usually stop himself if needed...unless he was having a meal of doe. He utterly could not resist it. Also, stemming from an incident from his pup hood, Ysengrim had a terrible fear of swimming. It was next to impossible to get him to step into water deeper then his shoulders.
Ysengrim, despite his almost constant cheerful disposition, also has a guilty conscious that he would never be able to live down. He was almost always able to push the memories of that fateful day to the back of his mind, but he would still occasionally have night terrors about it. As such, Ysengrim can be a bit of an insomniac, unless he has gorged himself on food and can't help dozing off. Despite this one stain on his conscious, Ysengrim was otherwise a very cheerful wolf, sometimes bordering on being a bit childish. A kind hearted and loyal wolf, the rotund wolf was sure he could win over anyone's friendship with a friendly smile, positive attitude...and if worse came to worse, a bunch of good food.
Background/History: Ysengrim was born in a litter of 3, being, ironically, the runt. However, rather tragically, his two siblings, both female, were killed when a fox managed to sneak into the den one day. Ysengrim was moments away from becoming a morsel for the intruder when his mother arrived in the nick of time, and chased it away. As an only pup to his mother and father, whom were the alpha's of a small pack of 5 other adults, he was, for all intensive purposes, spoiled. He was the only surviving pup of the pack, and, much to the ire of the other adults, was heaped with extra morsels and special treatment. As an adolescence, Ysengrim was taught how to hunt small game, and became rather proficient at it. However, he was horribly bad at pack hunting things like elk and other large game, mainly due to his lack of coordination.
Shortly after his first year, Ysengrim's pampered lifestyle crashed down on him. First, his mother was killed after encountering a bobcat by herself. She had managed to fend it off, but by the time she reached the pack, she had lost too much blood, and died shortly thereafter. With only the alpha male left, the ire of the others started to transform into almost mutinous talk. Finally, when Ysengrim had once again done very poorly at downing an elk, but was given second dibs to the meat by his father, the others rose up and attacked the alpha male. He put up a good fight, but he was totally unprepared at how savagely his former pack mates fought, and he was slain. Ysengrim was horrified as the fight started, the adults he'd grown up with suddenly killing his father. He would never forgive himself for what he did as his father fought to the death.
Ysengrin ran away in fright, like a scared puppy.
The chubby blue wolf hid in a large log, until he was sure he was safe. Emerging, he could barely stand, sick to his stomach at his utter cowardice. Unsure of where to go, Ysengrim started to wander the lands. A year had past since that fateful day, and the now very large wolf was surprisingly unaffected. He still had a fairly cheerful demeanor, although still rather shy, and was still a very trusting character. Still, every so often, he would have nightmares of that day, thought he tried his best not to let them get to him.