06-13-2019, 08:05 PM
FOURTHWALL FALLOUT
BLACK/GOLD HELLHOUND - MALE - 19 MONTHS - THE PITT
Fourthwall had never cared much for things like blood relatives or raising a family. He hadn't when his mother and siblings had needed his most, and he didn't now. Perhaps during the in-between there had been a brief moment where he'd considered it, when the right person had ensnared his heart and filled his head with dreams of things that could never really come to fruition, but he could see the error of his ways now, could see how foolish it had been to think he could have anything like that.
Monsters didn't get happy endings.
And so he'd put foolish things like that away and returned to the life he knew best, a life that was selfish and filled with impulses, but one that was satisfying none the less. The world was an unpredictable place where people only found happiness if they were willing to take it, and Fourth had always done what made him happy, even if it came at the expense of someone else. That wasn't to say though that he was a solitary creature that was unable to form proper bonds with others. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The hellhound was a social beast if ever there was one, drawn to communities and known to easily forge friendships with others. He just had no interest in anyone who was outside his little bubble, and unless you were the submissive and innocent sort then you were fair game for any of his antics.
Unsurprisingly he was among the first of the guards to catch the other canines scent, notified farther by the long howl let loose by the white canine standing at their borders. With feline blood pumping through his veins alongside canine blood, he was well used to being found in the lower branches of the larger trees, where he could bask in the warmth of the sun while keeping an eye on the borders. This was one trait that often set him apart from others of his species, for the massive canine had many unseen feats that were very feline in nature, like his retractable claws, keen sense of balance/athletics, and the powerful bite his jaws were capable of delivering. None of these 'extras' were noticeable at a glance however, and as the large black and gold canine lept from the tree to the ground below and made his way over, he was visually nothing but a large brindle canine. Albeit, a very capable looking one giving the toned muscle beneath his mid-length fur and the various battlescars pinned across his frame like war medals from an old veteran.
"Name and business with the Pitt?" he'd ask, and while the phrase itself was curt and laced with a note of boredom, there wasn't any telltale aggression or unfriendliness in them. While it was evident from the gleam of his mismatched eyes and the many scars that covered his form that he was a troublemaker ready and willing, he also lacked a need to flaunt said traits. When the time was upon him to tear someone to pieces then they'd know quickly the mistake they'd made in crossing paths with him, and indeed the border was a good place for the young adult to exercise this, as there was always someone sniffing around who'd accidentally wandered too close or who'd been snooping around for an enemy clan. And if this guy turned out to be one of them then they could have a little fun of their own out here, but from the calm way he was waiting and gazing at the blood river Fourth figured he probably knew where he was an why he wanted to be there, meaning the darker hound had no reason to show hostility- yet.
"SPEECH
BLACK/GOLD HELLHOUND - MALE - 19 MONTHS - THE PITT
Fourthwall had never cared much for things like blood relatives or raising a family. He hadn't when his mother and siblings had needed his most, and he didn't now. Perhaps during the in-between there had been a brief moment where he'd considered it, when the right person had ensnared his heart and filled his head with dreams of things that could never really come to fruition, but he could see the error of his ways now, could see how foolish it had been to think he could have anything like that.
Monsters didn't get happy endings.
And so he'd put foolish things like that away and returned to the life he knew best, a life that was selfish and filled with impulses, but one that was satisfying none the less. The world was an unpredictable place where people only found happiness if they were willing to take it, and Fourth had always done what made him happy, even if it came at the expense of someone else. That wasn't to say though that he was a solitary creature that was unable to form proper bonds with others. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The hellhound was a social beast if ever there was one, drawn to communities and known to easily forge friendships with others. He just had no interest in anyone who was outside his little bubble, and unless you were the submissive and innocent sort then you were fair game for any of his antics.
Unsurprisingly he was among the first of the guards to catch the other canines scent, notified farther by the long howl let loose by the white canine standing at their borders. With feline blood pumping through his veins alongside canine blood, he was well used to being found in the lower branches of the larger trees, where he could bask in the warmth of the sun while keeping an eye on the borders. This was one trait that often set him apart from others of his species, for the massive canine had many unseen feats that were very feline in nature, like his retractable claws, keen sense of balance/athletics, and the powerful bite his jaws were capable of delivering. None of these 'extras' were noticeable at a glance however, and as the large black and gold canine lept from the tree to the ground below and made his way over, he was visually nothing but a large brindle canine. Albeit, a very capable looking one giving the toned muscle beneath his mid-length fur and the various battlescars pinned across his frame like war medals from an old veteran.
"Name and business with the Pitt?" he'd ask, and while the phrase itself was curt and laced with a note of boredom, there wasn't any telltale aggression or unfriendliness in them. While it was evident from the gleam of his mismatched eyes and the many scars that covered his form that he was a troublemaker ready and willing, he also lacked a need to flaunt said traits. When the time was upon him to tear someone to pieces then they'd know quickly the mistake they'd made in crossing paths with him, and indeed the border was a good place for the young adult to exercise this, as there was always someone sniffing around who'd accidentally wandered too close or who'd been snooping around for an enemy clan. And if this guy turned out to be one of them then they could have a little fun of their own out here, but from the calm way he was waiting and gazing at the blood river Fourth figured he probably knew where he was an why he wanted to be there, meaning the darker hound had no reason to show hostility- yet.
"SPEECH
[size=9pt]
Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt
Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt