sonder spring 1710
4 years old
Big Buff Fluff. An absolute unit. Thicc with a double C. Large and masculine, a beefy burly man who's thick muscles are surprisingly well-padded with a not-insignificant layer of pudge. He can be squished and smooshed to a degree, in other words. Regardless, underneath that he is quite well-built, with well-defined muscle hiding beneath the extra paunch. Not that it seems to matter much anyway, as he is a creature that can be somewhat bristly to get close to anyway. Made mostly of monochromatic hues with tints of blue and silver, he is very much akin to the frigid landscapes he tends to make his home. A stark, snow-white underbelly fades into a soft, pale almost powder blue that melts its way into a slate blue-grey across the majority of his body, though sharp swirls and layers of deep greys and blacks seem to coat his spine and draw out various details along his hips and the ridge of his spine. His legs are thick--thicker than the average wolf, and whether that's due to his extra paunch or the fact that he's just a beefcake, it's never very clear. What is clear, however, is that he is made for sheer power and force. Even his muzzle and head are somewhat broader and blunter-- he is a bash, crush, break sort of man, rather than a man of speed or grace. Need something crushed? He's your guy. His eyes stand out as well, as much of his face is dark and heavily defined with sharp angles and bright contrast between black and white, his eyes are a surprisingly pleasant shade of blue-green. Almost turquoise in some light while appearing nearly jade in others,the actual hue of his gaze is somewhat akin to both of them, as his pupils are lined in a deep cobalt blue while his iris itself has taken on an aquamarine seafoam shade. If anything, despite them being cold colors, it is probably the warmest part of him. Last but not least, he can be defined by his battle scars. Several of them are displayed haphazardly along his back, legs, and chest, though the ones on more shallow fur are more easily noticeable. The massive wound across his face seems to be a defining feature, as the gash is deep and despite its age, seems to be in a constant state of redness or irritation. He is also missing his tail due to some fight.
fur palette
eye colour
Extra Large
Frost, Metal and Flowers
Cold. To call him as cold as ice would be an understatement, as his demeanor is frigid. It is not not that he is cruel nor mean, he simply has trouble forming emotional bonds, a soldier from the day he was born to the day he dies. He struggles with forming the words that sound right, and with understanding the things he should and shouldn't he often says nothing. Distant. His struggle with forming emotional bonds has left him distant, closed off to many and most. He is alone in a crowd, and prefers to keep it that way, though those who melt his wall of ice are few and far between, but bonded by blood. Blunt. Sugarcoating is not a thing--there is little to no softness in his words, he does not soften any blows and his brutal honesty can be taken as harsh or even cruel. But he means only the best, seeing no reason to lie, to reason to cheat, no reason to steal or waste time when the truth will always bring a result. He is a simple man, with simple desires, simple thoughts, and too simplistic to ever see lying as anything more than trouble. Honest. Brutally. Sometimes fatally. His truthful nature also gives way to the kindness that he actually holds inside, usually hidden by a prickly exterior, but he will always speak honest words of encouragement and honest words of kindness and honest words of love. It is his defining feature-- he will only ever speak words of truth. Unyielding. He will bend and bow to nobody. His morals are etched in stone, and nothing will make him stray from them. Overall; he is a kind knight who has been tarnished by betrayal and lies and pain, and has taken to hiding his softness and kindness and loving nature deep underneath layers of armor--so deep, in fact, that he has sometimes grown detached from them, and finds himself disassociating more often than he'd like.
attracted to
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom in a far-off land. They were known as the Flower kingdom, as their lands were filled with beautiful wildflowers that covered the mountains and hillsides in colors during the spring and summer. The king and queen were well-loved, and known as fair and just. They had a surprisingly large territory, but it was large enough for them and their people. They had grown their kingdom from various packs joining together to become one, a conglomerate of all with a common goal. In this endeavor, they had gained just as many enemies. Across the mountains and within the river valley was the Commune. They were those who found the Flower kingdom harsh, ugly, and annoying. It was their will, their desire, to destroy it from the inside out, and their chance came when there was an announcement that the Queen had given birth to three children. The children were to be protected, and so, they held a tournament for the most capable warriors to be appointed to knights, and this was where the Commune's plan fell into step one, though the groundwork had been laid long ago. Long before the children of the Queen were born, at the outskirts of the kingdom, there was a wanderer who stumbled into the borders. She was from Rionnach. Her family had disliked her choice of mate, and left her to suffer the consequences. S She brought with her two children--unnamed boys.he had birthed her children in the Mainland....then ran. Almost immediately upon arriving, the mother collapsed--exhausted and near death, but managed to petition a passerby for help for her children with her last breaths. That passerby was Passiflora, a deeply angry woman who scorned both the Flower kingdom and Rionnach and patrolled their borders for cracks in their defenses. But she could not deny the pleads of a dying mother, and alas, she was but one woman and so could carry only one pup. Of the two, she picked the stronger one-- a pale boy, blushed with hints of bronze and vivid eyes, who retained some fight, and clutching him in her jaws, she made a silent promise to raise him, for her. But she left behind his darker brother, who seemed near death. She could not save him, so she thought. Upon her departure, the young boy was left alone, using only the corpse of his mother as a tether to this world, until a kindly hunter happened upon them as he passed by, gathering his hunters boon. He showed no hesitation, snatching the boy up to bring him deeper into the kingdom-- Into the Flowers-- to heal him and raise him as his own. Passiflora's son was raised with deep love and affection, but her biased hatred and disgust was poured into him. He grew, knowing that it was his job to infiltrate, to become one of those in Flower Kingdom--to get close, to get in, and then to rot it, decay it from the inside. Meanwhile, the Huntsman raised his own in much the same-- he was raised with deep love and great care, and he grew, knowing it was his job--his destiny-- to become a guardian. To serve, to protect. And the birth of the children opened the doorway for both of these. Four were chosen to be knights. Each knight, chosen for their valor, strength, skill and will. The Bronze knight was a newcomer-- a stranger from a far-off land, who had proven himself in battle, but had yet to prove himself in trust. Ecclesias claimed the Silver knight, having known he was destined for the role. The Golden knight and the Copper knight too, were trusted and loved. The children grew in safety beneath the watch of those four cornerstone knights, each flourishing into their own person. The Red Prince, hotheaded but adventurous, full of equal parts passion and stubborn-ness. The Yellow Princess, intelligent but shy. She often found herself struggling to keep up with her larger brother, but she managed, as for all of her shyness, she was determined and was unrivaled in her sheer resolve to prove herself. And lastly, the Snowy Prince. Innocent and naive, he was sickly compared to his siblings. He was often forced to stay behind on journeys and tasks, and as a result, developed a vivid imagination. As they grew, they grew more trusting of the knights put in place to protect them, and this was planned. The Bronze Knight, Passiflora's trained child, waited for his opening. He had taken to sneaking out the Snowy Prince late at night, leading him from the den and into the rest of the territory to discover, explore, and learn. Again and again, it was soon a nightly ritual, and it was this innate attention to patience that would begin the unraveling. One evening, he took the young prince to a cave. The cave was full of life, vivid and beautiful. But the bats within were dangerous, and he knew it. Rabid. Upon being bitten, the young prince grew frightened, and asked to be brought back home, to which the Bronze knight agreed to easily. And he let the rabies fester within him overnight. The next evening, the sickly boy demanded to be taken out again, and so, the bronze knight again, agreed. But this time, to a gathering. A social group that met late nights and told tall tales about magic, gods, and demons. The boy listened with rapt intensity, and found himself socializing more than he ever had! And for a while, he knew great joy and friendship. But he spread the infection as it laid within him, incubating. It was nearly a full week that passed until signs began to show. The young prince began to grow irritable and angry, biting and snapping at anybody and everybody. His ability to focus waned and faltered, and a high fever attacked his already weakened body. Within the community, too, symptoms began to appear to sufferers, and things began to get harsh. Most of the wolves within the kingdom were healthy and happy, and so, they did not know the signs of this disease. But Ecclesias knew. He knew from his hunts with the huntsman, and knew that at this point, there could be no saving them except by trying to dull their pain and to save them before they could truly fathom what it was that awaited them. But this was something he kept to himself. It was late when he managed to lure the now-aggressive prince out of his den, out of the safety of his home. He had gathered them--those that still had the sense to know who they were and could understand that they were going to die had met with great resolve, helping to gather the others they could. They made themselves comfortable in a thicket, highly flammable. They knew. The fires had already climbed high into the sky by the time the rest of the kingdom had become alerted. The other knights raced towards the flames, noting that not only was the frail prince missing, but so was Ecclesias. He was still trying to cut off the flames from the rest-- it was a quarantine, a cull. Those of them that knew what awaited them had accepted it with honor and he treated them as such, but how would anybody else know? The Bronze knight was furious. How? How had this lunk-headed IDIOT managed to cleave through the plan so sharply? But his fury could hold a purpose now, and he immediately placed the blame onto him. 'Look', he'd cried,'Look at what he's done! He burned them all, mothers and their children!' But Ecclesias, honest as he was, would not deny it, for he had. Immediately, it became clear that his attempt to explain WHY would be met only with outrage. The king and queen were devastated, for the young prince was among those put to the pyre. Disgraced, Ecclesias was given leniency only because of his previous faithful service--he could keep his life. But he was exiled, stripped. He could never return, and this was a fate he had no choice but to accept. And so, there were three knights remaining, and the Bronze knight no longer had to worry about a lack of trust-- for if it was anybody to not be trusted, it was Ecclesias, right? Good riddance, right? However, the red prince and yellow princess were not so easily swayed, for they saw the changes that occurred in their pitiful brother over the time he spent with the bronze knight, and upon the departure of Ecclesias, the red prince went after him. He didn't care if it was against the wishes of others-- he was certain he knew the truth, that Ecclesias was the only one there they could trust, and he would prove it. The Princess, unfettered by the same social stigmas of her remaining brother, had grown shrewd and wise in her young years, and feverish discussions into the late night with Gold had led to the both of them coming to the conclusion that Bronze had some role to play, both in the death of her brother and in the framing of their guardian. But she was not as rash as Red, and instead asked to leave upon a personal journey of self-discovery to prepare for the crown, with Gold as her guardian. Copper,however, believed none of this, having always had her reservations and suspicions about the fool of a Huntsman Child whom had risen to such prominence within the ranks, and her duty to protect the remaining children remained--even if that meant following the both of them to ends of the earth to return them home...whether they wanted to or not. In his exile, Ecclesias returned to the land of his birth; Rionnach. Only to find it in political turmoil. With his heart wounded and his soul soured, the tarnished former knight had had his fair share of royalty, and instead departed into the commonfolk.
Na x Na
Bronze (adoptable)



Several scars and a missing tail from battle.