sonder summer 1710
Hopeless Romantic
5 years old
Thieves' Guild
Drug trader
Satchel is a sturdy beast, built upon blood and dust.

His large frame is muscular and prone, giving him an almost chiseled effect. He could easily pass for one of the finer specimens of his breed, a pale off white hide flecked with darker points. He is a flexible and sure footed beast, large splayed paws making it easier to move over different terrain.

His limbs are long and graceful, each step well placed. Without any sound he moves, observing his world with little indifference. The most striking thing about him would be his eyes. They are an intense and brilliant shade of orange, like remnants of a dying sun. Like Molten lava they flow with a strange intensity, brimming with some rare intelligence that few can understand. They are little windows into his soul, unabashed by what they see. Rimming these wonderus hues is a faint out line of black, almost like tear stains.

He is a fine beast, semi transparent in the way he carries himself. His bulk is mostly made of muscle, and shaggy alabaster fur. He is a curious creature, always ready to take on the world. He is a lean and taunt beast, prone to skinny persuasions. Long and slender he is built for dancing, perfect balance giving him good rhythm. He is fast on his feet, but not as bulky as other males his size. Where they depend on brute force he relies on quick reflex's and limber footing. He is tireless in his toils, never giving in to sleep until he is dead on his paws. Always eager to do or see something, his mind is in constant motion in the waking world.

He has been on the road for some time, worn pads and ruffled fur testifying to this fact. His fur is very rough at the edges, shaggy and loose even during summer. He is not the biggest male on the playground weighing in less then you would expect. However he is a fluid and lithe creature, a finely carved head giving him an almost Adonis like effect. He almost always is stained with dirt and mud, his pale hide a regal mess.

fur palette
eye colour
Dirt and Wildflowers
His i.q is in the 140 range, either a genius or a fool at this point the guess is just a good.

He is a complicated man, a subtle underlining of agitation in every move he makes. He will happily get in your face, and shake your hand at the same time. He has a short fuse for a temper, constantly trying to redirect all his pent up energy. He is very observant, with his sharp intellect it is difficult to get things past him. He seldom relaxes, but almost always smiles. Life is short, and he just wants to live.

He is a cocky bastard at times, swaggering around like he's the biggest male on the playground. a sense of pride often gets him in deep shit, but he is also good at Accepting his own faults and inviting Constructive criticism. He has calmed down a lot since youth, a mature adult well on his way to a better life. He tends to obsess over the little things, and has a mean jealous streak. He is a beast who feels to much, a bleeding heart screaming to be heard.

He is of fickle intentions, never able to just sit still. He needs to see, feel, touch, learn everything. Like a constant burning hunger he must know the absolute truth of the world, despite the conscienceless rebuff he often receives. He is a bold little shit, often times instigating just to make sure he is real. He has a personal philosophy to never compromise, even if it brings about his own demise.

He has a softer side to him, he can't stand to see injustice prevail. He always takes the under dogs side, and when you catch him on a good day he makes a good shoulder to cry on. He hates himself for the sins he has committed, and constantly strives to be a better man. given the choice of heaven or hell, he would rather spread his wings and fly.

He is almost detached as far as emotions go, struggling to contain things from overflowing. He has a very short temper, and is prone to bite before he barks. Not everything is bad though, he has a fondness for children and injured beast.

A complicated beast if there ever was one, If only because he just can't get over himself.

attracted to
That is his business and nobody else's.
Skinner was his father, his mother was a faceless ruin of abandonment.
Newt Saxe- Sister
Ransom Cypress
Absolutely not