Registration Date: 05-09-2013
Last Visit: 08-26-2013 11:59 AM
Total Posts 13
Played By: Tobii

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397

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Age III	Gender Male
Species Caverunner	Sexuality Heterosexual
Mate	Pack None
Rank ---	Alignment Neutral

Relations:

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Other Info:

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Reference

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Ragnarr is extremely well built. Due to his race, he is a giant by nature, but most of his weight is from muscle. If he had one thing to thank his dame for it was the harsh training drills he was given under the supervision of her thanes and General. Growing up on his own from the mere age of four months on an uncharted island also played a part in his strength, having to take down prey on his own at such a young age. Although he is bulky and built in size, he almost never tosses his own weight around or uses his strength against others, unless his temper gets the better of him. A lion in size, he is truly a supporter of athletics and sports such as hunting game. At first glance, Ragnarr is truly a reflection of his father. His pelt is of the deepest onyx black with bright orange dorsal marking that oozes down his sides and tail like ichor. Dark maroon, gifted to him by his mother, clings to his pelt on either side of the top of his skull, leaving a thick strand of black to run down the center. The maroon is also visible running along the nape of his neck, down onto his left shoulder, stopping short, and running completely down his right leg all the way to the paw. It also appears at the tips of his toes on his hind left paw, underneath the base of his tail, and along the tops of his haunches, a small portion spiking out towards his stomach and stopping short a little past the center.
Bright orange tips the toes of his front left paw and his hind right paw as well as the tips of his ears, the color creating a skeleton-like mask around his face just under the dark maroon on either side of his face that stops just above the eyes. His eyes are a beautiful sage green that illuminate depending on his mood, same as the markings he possesses from his father. Intricate markings run along the scalp of his head in the same bright orange, as well as between his eyes and along his maw. The last unique feature about him is the thing he hates the most - the mark of Jorundr which glows a bright neon green on the back of his left ear. It is a mark that defines who he is and lets all who see him know him to be of the Jorundr bloodline.

Ragnarr as a pup was very quiet with a stern appearance. Being so young, he wasn't typically mad, angry, or frustrated at anything - it was just the way he appeared. He still to this day hates crowds and typically can't stand any wolves that show hyper activity. He likes things to be calm. He would appear to be sluggish and lazy, but in reality he is actually very sharp and keen on his senses. In all, he was a very mysterious child and get even more mysterious as he got older. In his own mind, he feels that no one will understand if he speaks out freely, because he feels that he has the best perception on everything. The reason he believes this is because he feels that he is connected to everything around him and it gives him a heightened knowledge on things. In nature he is not violent, nor is he kind. He almost seems to possess no emotion at all. He also has a habit of glaring at things to try and better understand them. He believes all things can be understood by observation. Conversation in general aggravates him these days. He is more open to understanding things when words are left unspoken, gaining understanding through visuals rather than words. He secludes himself most of the time as he does not enjoy company, nor does he enjoy confrontation. He would much rather sit on the side lines and complain rather than involving himself in social activities. He is extremely negative and very, very judgmental with a brutal sense of honesty. Some would say he even tries to push others away with it just for the sake of being left alone. He's claimed by Jorundr and he is shamed by it, trying to keep himself hidden from the gaze of others. He hates his family with his entire being, shunning them in his own way. Hidden deep within him is his father's rage, a rage he's sworn to control even if it kills him. To unleash such rage upon others would mean his lineage has won and he is destined to become the very brute he loathes, his father.

I am one of five spawn children of Iborcand and Joker, both Alphas to ruthless packs who take pleasure in others suffering. I have never met my father...but I am told he is just as my mother, wanting to breed out the weak and reward the strong. The blood of Jorunder runs through my veins and I despise every breathing minute of it. As a pup my mother only focused on our training. She aimed to make brainless war hungry mongrels out of all of us, just as the very swine who kissed the ground she walked upon. I played my part. I soaked in everything she threw at me and in the end I excelled with high promises...but I never did it for her. I did it so I could run away, as far and fast as I could when the time was right. I took everything those savages had given me and I built a new life for myself. A life of freedom; Free from the horrible stench of the bog we inhabited. Free from the screams of pain at all hours of the day, not leaving any space for a clear and open mind. Free from the dogs of war. Strength came from cruelty to them. I refuse to be cruel. I refuse to end up like my parents and a few of my foolish siblings. The day I found myself stranded on that uncharted island was the best day of my entire life. I made a life for myself there. I hunted on my own there, no pack, no noise, and no one to control WHO I WOULD BE! If it would rid me from my name I would rip the very ear off my own head that so shamefully displayed the repulsive mark of the Jorundr. But even that wouldn't do me any good. I am a breathing, walking tribute to my father. Neither of us could deny one another. I had once considered taking that brutes life...but as I reached the supposed doorsteps of his once great pack I realized...by killing my father I would become my parents themselves. An angry, vengeful beast who solved problems by brute force and dominance. If I was to truly rid myself of my family line I would need to be the exact opposite of what they are. It was then I heard it. The call of the gods, urging me to live my life a healer....a brute of peace. I would smite my own name to reject my inheritance. I would NOT become my father, nor my swine of a mother. I would become myself.