`the pawns in .p l a y.

[`| κιrs♥]

Name: Kaden. [KAY-din]

Nickname: Kad, Cay.

Gender: Male.

Breed: Eastern Wolf.

Height: 30 in.

Age: 6 years of age.

Appearance: Kaden's coat is a honey-golden brown that blends into a pale white on his legs, belly, and chest. He has coarse fur, though you can't tell from just looking at it. It appears to be soft, thin, and moves around with the wind a lot, but it's rougher and he doesn't clean it much. He has a black stripe going half-way down his shoulder, mixing in with the golden fur. On his back he has several black stripes and marks on the darker hued fur. His head follows the same pattern, although he has black ears and stripes coming away from his yellow left eye, and his pale blue discolored one. His tail is a mix between gold and black, with the black overruling the other color.

Cay has a masculine build, but not to the extent that it shows. He's not as beefy as the other larger, tougher wolves, but he's not weak either. His skin still ripples with each step, but more blatant. Kad has large paws, thick, more fluffier fur, and a few scars on his right shoulder. His muzzle is also more abnormally sized, but it fits in with his off sized body.

Disposition: His disorder would be known as ADHD, mixed with tourettes, and maybe even down-syndrome; or he's just special. He's always smiling distantly, and his face is really blank and it never looks like he's paying attention to what was going on around him. His eyes are constantly rolling and moving, and he fidgets a lot. He moves and flexed his paws, plays with his tongue, bites and chases his tail, or paces and wiggles his whole body. With him, he has to move. He ends up bouncing if he can't, or when he's sitting or laying down. However, he always appears happy.

He doesn't believe there's any evil in life, and if there is he doesn't see it. Some crude comment would go in one ear and out the other without registering. He almost skips when he walks, and sways. His tongue lolls out, his common I'm-not-here-all-the-way look. Kaden enjoys sitting with himself and playing with odd objects, and has a large, rather giant, imagination. He sees and points at things that are not there.. or speaks of something non-existent. Nothing about him seems to communicate so it's common he might walk funny, his voice slurring, or he acts mute. Kad's unpredictable, and likes taking the road less traveled by, or one not even there.


History: When he was born, he was odd from the start. Maybe it was because his mother was already dying when she went into labor, so it seemed to him he just appeared into the world rather than born. Some say he hit his head on the way out, but they never did come to a conclusion. Kaden had a goofy smile on his face all through his first fews days, and had a weird growth pattern. He'd hang by himself playing with sticks and rocks, tripping and stumbling and crashing into things. His face always looked dazed like he was zoning out, but he never missed a beat in his pack life. Others thought it was because of the loss of his mother, or some gene messed him up. But he looked normal, he just didn't act right.

He was one when things really started to go downhill. He was getting more and more distant, and making less sense by the minute. When he was asked a question, he'd reply with some crazy statement. Slowly people started backing away from him, and soon he was the pack's outcast. Not that he was bothered by this; he still played and smiled crookedly to everyone he saw, not even noticing how they sneered. Life was happy for him, and nothing could go wrong in his little world. He didn't care if his Dad didn't accept of him, he'd go his own way.

During meal time one morning, all mouths paused as Kaden walked straight through the group, his eyes blank and jaw clamped. He kept walking and walking.. looking more serious than he ever had, but he wasn't all there. He walked out and up a path, and no one knew what he was doing. They were all hushed as they watched. Not a soul stopped him, and he just kept going, paws catching themselves on everything. He wandered through numbers of forests, playing with birds and squirrels and rocks and sticks. The sun was up 24/7 for him, everything happy. Every once in a while he'd get stuck somewhere and not eat for days, but he recovered like it was just a scratch. Since then, he doesn't stay one place for a while.

[`| κιrs♥]

Name: Zane.

Nickname: None.

Gender: Male.

Breed: Timber Wolf.

Height: 39 inches at shoulder.

Age: 5 years of age.

Appearance: You could compare Zane to a striped hyena. He looks like one, but with a few different color variations.

The base of his coat is pure white, but blends to a tan in some areas. Stripes decorate the alabaster, winding up his legs, down his back, across his tail, and reach up from his belly to the height of his shoulders. They're black in color, with an almost unnoticeable maroon tint to it. His ears are also this color, along with the mask on his face.

Zane is bulky, definitely. Muscles outline each curve of his body, and make his body flow together. When the sun hits his frame, it sends every hue of his coat alight, revealing his beauty. He liekd to show it off, too. He was happy with himself. He was good with being an arrogant jerk, one that was good looking. He liked the silkiness of his fur, the swift movement of his body, and the rippling muscles. Not everyone agreed with how perfect he felt, but that was okay with him.

Disposition: He's definately not a boring guy. Zane has a great sense of humor, and makes everything into a joke if he can. Most of his jokes, though, aren't thoroughly polite, and can be crude and mean, but he's learned not to care what other people think. If they don't like his jokes, then they had a reason to be away from him. Most think he is rude after spending about a day with him, and go running. Not that he cares, of course, for he wanders anyway to carry on wreaking havoc. You could label him as 'womanizer', for all he does is flirt, crack jokes, and smirk. But then again, he doesn't really mean it.

He's not all fun and games, however. Zane has bloodlust in him. When he's mad, he'll lop your head off. Mabye just close to it, but you'd better watch out. Sometimes he has the urge to terrorize some lone wolf, or watch some gooey loner squirm, and just for the heck of it. Sometimes these emotions plow over his joking side, and he can't control this other side.

He's outgoing; definitely not shy. Speaks his mind, and is a gentleman in some jokingly ways when he wants to be, though he does it just to mess with his victim's minds. It's all about reactions. It's what he lives for. His mind eagerly awaits reactions to his harmful actions everytime he commits one.

History: Zane came from a whole different world, it seems. As a pup, his family loved him. They thought he was amazing; nice, funny, sweet. But maybe that was what he led them to believe, or maybe that really was him then. He didn't know anymore what happened. All he knew was that everybody liked him, and not just because he had forced them too. He liked them, too, and felt an awkward connection between him and his family. Too bad it was al in the past.

Zane was especially protectve of his sister. he knew what could harm her, and he tried to keep the goons away from her. He never really told anyone about his weird fetish, and no one ever really noticed. Well, all until the day that their pack was ambushed. all until the day he slipped.

Sane sat by the shore, his topaz eyes watching the waves lap innocently onto the sand, and then crawl back again. It was soothing to his mind; he had a lot to think about lately. And it was right then that he lifted his head, when something crashed into his back, sending his flying into the rolling water. He was infuriated. He spun around in one quick second, his smoldering eyes searching for his attacker. And there he was. And there she was. His sister. Caught by this... thing. How could he have let this happen? Why didn't he watch her? why didn't he prevent this? He snarled. Zane yelled at him to let her go, but he wouldn't. The attacked egged him on, babling about how much he could do with the fae. and what he wanted wans't exactly acceptable with Zane. But he kept digging in his head, messing with his thoughts, messing with whatever he could turn around. Zane was lost. Did his sister really mean that much anymore? Would she be better off with a stranger?

His eyes narrowed. He could atleast kill this wolf and then let her go. And he did. He won the fight, and won several others that starry night. But when he went back to his sister, his coat matted with blood, he regretted the fear he saw in her eyes. H knew what was going through her mind, and he had to let her go. His own sister thought he was a monster. What could he do with himself now?

So he ran. With one last unsteady glance at his trembling sister, he spun around and leaped into the woods, pushing his legs out as far as they would go. He ran for miles; miles upon miles. He didn't want to stop, for fear of the intruders of his pack to come find him and tell him of his sisters fate. He had already guessed she was taken as a prisoner. He collapsed in a shallow lake, the water rushing over his aching limbs. He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

In his slumber, he thought of ways he could distract himself. He came to the decision of playing the badguy; he would terrorize each wolf he passed. He felt no different than his sister's tormenters, and he was okay with that. And he stuck to it. For years he did this, until he became natural to him. And now he liked it. He liked how people reacted to his sarcastic remarks, or his awkward advances into their personal space. Now this was him.

Picture: Click- just a reference.