Name. Icarus Vonecci
Age. 4 years
Species. Timber Wolf
Icarus Vonecci is a soldier, through and through. He is a large mass of fur and muscle; large but not unwieldy in any sense of the word. A traveler in a way, he lends his expertise in return for food and shelter. His easy motions and well-built muscles betray a well-fed wolf who has learned how to fend for himself without the shackles of a pack. However, this life of wandering shows well on him: scars pepper his body, concealed for the most part by fur. Fights with various kinds of creatures, both predator and prey, have left swaths of fur removed rather forcibly. Despite his best efforts, not all scars will heal, and quite often wounds will come back to haunt him, both mentally and physically.
Pure Timber Wolf, Icarusí fur is a creamy white with both dark and light grays. His pelt is thick and well-used during the winter months, however, it is a heavy burden during the summer months. It keeps him warm and dry no matter what the weather conditions may be; dispelling misery while remaining the cause of it.
What would Icarus be without his eyes? They display the pure volatility of his soul, the ability to pick apart those who stand before him, and the lack of regret that others might have over killing. Orange in color, they cut through you, as if searching for your closest guarded secrets. It would be wary keeping your wits around you when near this creature, as his presence isnít for the faint of heart.
You could call Icarus downright evil, if you wanted. You could label him a monster and a beast that has lived his life only to taste the blood of others. He has centered his life on killing others for only his best interest. However, if you only stop there, you do not truly know Icarus. This is a wolf whom has been trained as a warrior and is putting his experience to good use. Those that he kills are wanted dead by others that are willing to give him food, or grant him safe haven in territories that may be of use to him. Inherently, he is not evil. This not to say he is any angel from above, either.
Itís safe to say that no one has truly loved him and nobody ever will. The concept of friendship is lost on him; like playing Tchaikovsky to a toad. For every wolf he has ever met he has said some off-hand comment, some small insult or insinuation about their mother being a filthy whore, or how their father should have been so ashamed to have such an unintelligent child. Itís difficult to say why exactly Icarus does this; perhaps itís because he enjoys tormenting others, or maybe itís just so he knows how theyíll react to the chance to start a fight or how theyíll defend themselves.
Whatever the reason may be, itís clear that Icarus is a wolf who lives and thrives in conflict. Thereís nothing he relishes more than a good fight, itís almost poetic in his eyes. The constant motion and careful footwork involved. Life hanging in the balance; each opponent being ready to take the icy plunge into the yawning abyss known as death. Icarus has a philosophy - if you are prepared to kill, then youíre also prepared to die. Itís the distinct mark of a born warrior; to live and to die by the sword.
Over the years, he has developed almost a kind of yearning for battle. It is where he is in his element and what he has been trained to do his entire life. The feeling of causing pain and the exhilaration of the power he exhibits is almost like a drug. Bloodlust, as you might call it, has given Icarus a special knack at causing fights. When he speaks, however rare, it is quite often to insult and enrage. Anger and love are emotions he has learned to suppress and Ė in the case of dealing with others Ė exploit as much as possible. They both have the ability to blind those that it takes hold of, leaving them wide open for a one-two punch.
If ever you manage to happen upon the miracle of befriending Icarus, you'll be surprised to know that - despite having the nature of a mercenary - he is one of the most loyal wolves you will ever hope to meet.