Height 5 1/2 feet	Weight 350 pounds
Eye Color Emerald	Fur Color Purple
Markings Many stripes adorn his body	Scent ---

A tall figure, standing about five and a half feet weighing in at around three hundred and fifty pounds total. He is coated in a dark, deep purple as his base. Covering his entire body aside from the accursed markings that taint his pelt. Each marking is intricate and interesting adorn his fur. Starting upon his face, it is covered in white markings as if he had war paint permanently placed onto his pelt. A nose pure white, with three stripes draping over his muzzle. Around his eyes swipe two markings, one on each side, craning up, curling in towards his forehead. A white dot is placed between his eyes, and one slightly above each emerald green pool. Three golden gems are encased into his skull as his species claims.

Upon his chest are three V shape white markings, which bleed to his stomach and stripe along the entire underside of him, curling up underneath his ribs. Along his back the color changing drastically. Molten lava being poured in perfect tiger like lines, stripes. Red on the outer edge with orange along the inside. These stripes start at the back of his neck spread all the way down his back and tail. Dagda's right front paw is white and his left back paw is tainted white as well. Three sets of horns crown his head, black in their color, the first jutting straight up, curving back just slightly. The second pair curve back drastically, swooping the opposite direction of the first. And finally the third which curve even more so, they begin going straight out away from the back of his head and then twist upwards.

Dagda holds himself with pride, he is regal, elegant, graceful. But power radiates from his frame, although he may seem welcoming on the outside it is clear that he's capable of damage. Head always remains held high, tail typically relaxed behind him. Eyes hard and stern, but not cold. Strict would be a better word. Dagda is considered proper, precise just by the way he moves.

Balanced; Quiet; Thoughtful; Well-spoken; Passionate; Observative; Art of war; Instinctual; Controlled; Modest; Distant; Leader; Confident; Loyal; Fleetingly kind; Slow moving ambition; Patient; Respectful

Likes insert likes	Dislikes insert dislikes
Hopes insert hopes	Fears insert fears

A gentle soul rests within the man, honing balance and passion. It marks him, creates his purpose, like a brand upon his heart naming who he is. Silent most of the time, he is eager to learn and, often times found assessing situations, constantly learning observing, taking in all the information he can get his paws on. War, is one of his passions, it is power, grace, precision, accuracy. Testing ones body and skill to their maximum potential. He believes that in the heat of battle one must shut their mind off, because when you switch off your brain, you'll be amazed by what your body can do. Let instincts guide your steps, and you will fight with as much power and passion you have ever felt.

Although he will kill, being fascinated with the art of war, he's a gentle soul and doesn't believe in doing it needlessly. Killing is not to be taken lightly, it is not a game. While his desire to execute the art of war properly he is found to be extremely determined, though not outwardly, all of his emotions, his traits seem to be hidden away. Masked, locked in away in some tomb deep within himself. Control, it is one of the many things you require in battle and he portrays in wonderfully. Though power radiates from his frame, he's always calm, he does not brag or shove it in anyones face. He's kind to his family, loyal until the end, however to strangers it could be another story. Though not rude, he distances himself when a stranger first meets him. He seems uninterested, dull, like he's pushing them away, as if they're nothing but an annoyance.

Dagda views himself as a leader confident with who he is and the decisions he makes, he always holds his head high, regal if you will. He knows where his loyalty's lie and he is extremely smart, it takes a lot to be able to fool him. When he meets a stranger he often times studies them, assesses their weaknesses, potential traits. He may even come off as friendly, if he finds they could be of use to him or his family. A complex inner working, that will decide how he will end up treating another outside of his family circle. His hunger for power is hidden away, not portrayed to any extreme in the physical world, but shown through small things he does here and there. Little gestures, plans, manipulating others to his get what he wants.

Father Worldeater	Mother Ailena Renn
Siblings Sirius, Mariposa, Tiber & Aziphale	Pups none

There was once a massive, horned beast of legend; they say he was more than wolf, more than mortal, and yet still shy of being a god. Only what’s left of his living family knows his true name; he lives in myths and stories with names like Sunchallenger and Worldeater. He was born with a hunger for power as big as the sky, and so he set his sights on the sun. As he grew from child to adult, he became vicious and cruel; in his time, he would slay wolf after wolf in the name of Sol. With each kill, he would appeal to the god, demanding that Sol show his face to him; his morality was so long-lost that he wanted to challenge and kill the god in order to take his place in the sky. On the day of his hundredth senseless kill, Sol cursed him to endless famine, and branded his black face with a clean sweep of white fur so that everyone would know he had lost the favor of the gods.

His children did not inherit his curse of hunger, but they were born with echoes of his ambition and power, and each child’s face was marked with white, marking them as wolves forsaken by the gods. Their god blood was all that remained of Worldeater, who vanished some time ago, and while his name slowly died in Adymeria, they lived on in the shadows, waiting for his return.

With time, the white markings faded from the faces of his children, until the time came that a son was born without any white markings at all. He vanished, his whereabouts unknown...but his blood still lives on, led by Sirius, the unmarked child. Now they once again step into the sun’s light.