I had fun designing him. I really like how he came out. Note; I mostly did this simply because I like the species and want to be a part of it. Not for the prizes.
Name: Izaya
Age (at most 200 years):48
Gender: Male
Antler type: Pere David Deer
Region: Far South
Rank:Trainee
Parents:Zena, real parents deceased; Unknown death
Personality: Izaya, despite the picture, is actually a quiet, and sort of a blend-with-the-shadows kind of guy. Quick thinking, sharp, and stubborn, Izaya is well known for his silver tongue. This often times gets him into fights with the other trainees. Despite being brutally beaten each time, Izaya never backs down from a fight. He always get's back up and bares his teeth with a smile.
"That all you got?"
Izaya, despite his almost anti-social personality, is quite intelligent. He's calm in difficult situations and always manages to figure out a solution. Some might think that he would become a Defender, or Warrior. But Izaya has another skill.
He's practically a God when it comes to hunting.
Silent and deadly, Izaya's like an arrow let loose, speeding with complete silence across the plains and landing smoothly into the prey's heart. When he's on a hunt, nothing can distract him. Not even being attacked by other predators. He can intermittently hunt and fight at the same time.
But behind all this, Izaya hides a deep and lasting wound. For Izaya has experienced something no other young Isnaroh has. He's experienced war and death. Damaged beyond repair, some would say. Izaya holds a terrifying fury within him that only ignites when someone talks bad about his father, or mother. When that happens, the one who did it most likely won't survive without getting severely wounded. Aka, missing limbs. No one knows why he has such a fury. Only that it's connected with his past. He never speaks of his past though, so no one knows.
Story: When Izaya was born, it was with the world crumbling around him. Fire loomed in the sky and the screams of wolves and elks resounded in the area. His father snarled protectively over his mother as She gave birth to him, using the last of her breath to scream Izaya's name. When Izaya's father saw that she had died, he kissed her on the brow, then picked newborn Izaya up and raced through the land of blood, His eyes searching for safety in the screams of the dying and wounded.
It was several hours before those sounds slowly began to die down and the land grew firm and cold. Snow littered the area, and his father and his own breath's were visible in the air. Izaya, his underside coated in his mother's blood and dirt, slowly opened his eyes. Of course, it was too soon for a pup who had only been born a few hours ago, but for some reason, he was able to. His eyes, a dark, almost black, reddish iris and a deep ocean blue scoured the land, gazing at the snow as it slowly began to fall on their heads.
When his father finally stopped running, He set Izaya down near his stomach. "I'm sorry little one. i don't have the milk to feed you. I need to find a mother for you and soon." His father whispered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion, pain, and grief. It was a sound Izaya would never hear again upon turning 25.
It was three days before Izaya slowly began to diminish away. His father had left early every day, searching for a she-wolf able to give milk. When he finally found her, Izaya was hesitating at death's door. When he awoke, it was to the warmth of two bodies and the smell of the rich milk of a mother. Unable to move, the she-wolf scooted closer to him and nudged him at a teat. "Little one, you must work whatever energy you have left for it." The she-wolf whispered. Responding to the gentle, but firm voice, Izaya began to suckle, kneading his paws into her stomach. With each gulp, he felt strength going back into his limbs. It was then, that Izaya began to live again. And his life started.
Izaya grew up to be a quiet and withdrawn pup, anti-social when it came to other wolves. The she-wolf became his 'fake' mother and his father began to teach Izaya in the art of surviving. He said constantly that it wasn't his heart that would save him, but his mind. Izaya learned quickly and soon, he began to survive better than his father. His mind grew sharp and his tongue sharper. He thought of quick solutions and ideas that ensured their survival. But then one day, sounds that seemed so familiar to Izaya returned.
Screams and howls echoed in his ears as Izaya watched his father and mother engage in battle. The enemy, an evil tribe bent on destroying all opposing Isnaroh's, attacked Izaya's father. A warrior, hunter, and leader, Izaya's father fought back, protecting Izaya and his 'mother'. Soon though, one slipped by and slit his 'mother's' throat. Her scream was cut short as blood splattered the ground. Izaya was paralyzed as he watched her blood pool around his paws, feeling it on his face and fur.
And then they began to get through. Izaya's father fought and fought and at last, he curled around Izaya's small form, protecting him from the menacing blows. When his father finally began to draw his last breaths, he looked at his son, smiled, and said this;
"Become a leader. Survive. And Don't ever give up."
And then he died, his body cradling him even in death, protecting him. Izaya escaped with barely his life as he ran from the scene of death, his parent's blood soaking his pelt. That night, as he ran, he felt nothing. Only the primal urge to run. To run as far and for as long as he could. Leaving a trail of blood behind him, Izaya did just that. Run. He had no idea how long he ran. When he finally stopped, it was not out of tiredness or safety, but for the simple fact that he was hungry.
IZaya set out, searching for live prey when he found it. A young elk. It was alone and bleating feebly for it's mother. Around it's neck, tied with silver lace, was a small yellow bell. Izaya crawled across the snow, his belly leaving a smudged trail of blood in the snow as he slowly stalked his prey. Just as the fawn caught whiff of the blood smell, strong in the air, Izaya leaped and viscously tore into it's neck. It was dead, but Izaya didn't stop. He tore at it and tore, ripping and shredding. He screamed as he destroyed the now dead elk, a blind rage over taking him. When his senses returned, he blinked, horrified at what he had done. What had once been an elk was now no longer recognizable. Blood was spattered across the snow. Izaya collapsed and began to cry, his tears running red from the old and new blood in his fur.
Izaya ate whatever was left and began to walk, his eyes dull and his mind empty. It was only when he bumped into something that his mind stirred. He looked up with clouded eyes into those of a female Isnaroh. He didn't register her a normal animal would. He looked back down and began to walk again. The blood had long dried into his fur, turning it a ruddy red. His black hair hung limply over his left reddish black eye, the blue dye red. It took him a minute to register that he wasn't moving on his own. Someone was carrying him. His legs hung limply and slowly, his eyes closed. It didn't matter. His life was already nonexistent. Maybe it was death, coming to carry him into the realm of the dead.
When Izaya awoke, his fur was clean and he felt warm. He stirred and looked to the source of warmth. it was the female. She smiled down at him, but Izaya's mind was still shut down. He looked away and lied his head on his paws, staring into space. His ears dimly registered her speaking. "He'll come back on his own Zena... Don't worry." A male voice said. "But I'm worried...." She whispered. She licked the top of his head, to no response. The male sighed. "Give him time Zena. I don't know what happened to him, but It must have been traumatizing. I mean, he was practically coated in three layers of blood!" The male said. The fmeale sighed. "Alright." She whispered. At that point, Izaya's vision dimmed out and he retreated into the empty blackness of sleep.
It took many years before Izaya finally began to show life. By then, Zena, the Alpha female, had adopted him as her own son. Izaya became a trainee and works hard at training. But when ever somebody brings up curiosity on his unknown past, Izaya shuts down. Becomes like a zombie. This is enough to scare them away, but sometimes someone is stupid enough to taunt him for his lack of real parents. That's about the time when somebody get's hurt. Or dead.
Other: Nothing. Just that he's like 'Damaged Goods,' for lack of a better term.
Three Facts
The Isnaroh's live on a world called Anteer.
Humans created the Sorith, saber fanged elk.
At the center of the humans chaos was a black panther colored Isnaroh named Dacal.
Name: Izaya
Age (at most 200 years):48
Gender: Male
Antler type: Pere David Deer
Region: Far South
Rank:Trainee
Parents:Zena, real parents deceased; Unknown death
Personality: Izaya, despite the picture, is actually a quiet, and sort of a blend-with-the-shadows kind of guy. Quick thinking, sharp, and stubborn, Izaya is well known for his silver tongue. This often times gets him into fights with the other trainees. Despite being brutally beaten each time, Izaya never backs down from a fight. He always get's back up and bares his teeth with a smile.
"That all you got?"
Izaya, despite his almost anti-social personality, is quite intelligent. He's calm in difficult situations and always manages to figure out a solution. Some might think that he would become a Defender, or Warrior. But Izaya has another skill.
He's practically a God when it comes to hunting.
Silent and deadly, Izaya's like an arrow let loose, speeding with complete silence across the plains and landing smoothly into the prey's heart. When he's on a hunt, nothing can distract him. Not even being attacked by other predators. He can intermittently hunt and fight at the same time.
But behind all this, Izaya hides a deep and lasting wound. For Izaya has experienced something no other young Isnaroh has. He's experienced war and death. Damaged beyond repair, some would say. Izaya holds a terrifying fury within him that only ignites when someone talks bad about his father, or mother. When that happens, the one who did it most likely won't survive without getting severely wounded. Aka, missing limbs. No one knows why he has such a fury. Only that it's connected with his past. He never speaks of his past though, so no one knows.
Story: When Izaya was born, it was with the world crumbling around him. Fire loomed in the sky and the screams of wolves and elks resounded in the area. His father snarled protectively over his mother as She gave birth to him, using the last of her breath to scream Izaya's name. When Izaya's father saw that she had died, he kissed her on the brow, then picked newborn Izaya up and raced through the land of blood, His eyes searching for safety in the screams of the dying and wounded.
It was several hours before those sounds slowly began to die down and the land grew firm and cold. Snow littered the area, and his father and his own breath's were visible in the air. Izaya, his underside coated in his mother's blood and dirt, slowly opened his eyes. Of course, it was too soon for a pup who had only been born a few hours ago, but for some reason, he was able to. His eyes, a dark, almost black, reddish iris and a deep ocean blue scoured the land, gazing at the snow as it slowly began to fall on their heads.
When his father finally stopped running, He set Izaya down near his stomach. "I'm sorry little one. i don't have the milk to feed you. I need to find a mother for you and soon." His father whispered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion, pain, and grief. It was a sound Izaya would never hear again upon turning 25.
It was three days before Izaya slowly began to diminish away. His father had left early every day, searching for a she-wolf able to give milk. When he finally found her, Izaya was hesitating at death's door. When he awoke, it was to the warmth of two bodies and the smell of the rich milk of a mother. Unable to move, the she-wolf scooted closer to him and nudged him at a teat. "Little one, you must work whatever energy you have left for it." The she-wolf whispered. Responding to the gentle, but firm voice, Izaya began to suckle, kneading his paws into her stomach. With each gulp, he felt strength going back into his limbs. It was then, that Izaya began to live again. And his life started.
Izaya grew up to be a quiet and withdrawn pup, anti-social when it came to other wolves. The she-wolf became his 'fake' mother and his father began to teach Izaya in the art of surviving. He said constantly that it wasn't his heart that would save him, but his mind. Izaya learned quickly and soon, he began to survive better than his father. His mind grew sharp and his tongue sharper. He thought of quick solutions and ideas that ensured their survival. But then one day, sounds that seemed so familiar to Izaya returned.
Screams and howls echoed in his ears as Izaya watched his father and mother engage in battle. The enemy, an evil tribe bent on destroying all opposing Isnaroh's, attacked Izaya's father. A warrior, hunter, and leader, Izaya's father fought back, protecting Izaya and his 'mother'. Soon though, one slipped by and slit his 'mother's' throat. Her scream was cut short as blood splattered the ground. Izaya was paralyzed as he watched her blood pool around his paws, feeling it on his face and fur.
And then they began to get through. Izaya's father fought and fought and at last, he curled around Izaya's small form, protecting him from the menacing blows. When his father finally began to draw his last breaths, he looked at his son, smiled, and said this;
"Become a leader. Survive. And Don't ever give up."
And then he died, his body cradling him even in death, protecting him. Izaya escaped with barely his life as he ran from the scene of death, his parent's blood soaking his pelt. That night, as he ran, he felt nothing. Only the primal urge to run. To run as far and for as long as he could. Leaving a trail of blood behind him, Izaya did just that. Run. He had no idea how long he ran. When he finally stopped, it was not out of tiredness or safety, but for the simple fact that he was hungry.
IZaya set out, searching for live prey when he found it. A young elk. It was alone and bleating feebly for it's mother. Around it's neck, tied with silver lace, was a small yellow bell. Izaya crawled across the snow, his belly leaving a smudged trail of blood in the snow as he slowly stalked his prey. Just as the fawn caught whiff of the blood smell, strong in the air, Izaya leaped and viscously tore into it's neck. It was dead, but Izaya didn't stop. He tore at it and tore, ripping and shredding. He screamed as he destroyed the now dead elk, a blind rage over taking him. When his senses returned, he blinked, horrified at what he had done. What had once been an elk was now no longer recognizable. Blood was spattered across the snow. Izaya collapsed and began to cry, his tears running red from the old and new blood in his fur.
Izaya ate whatever was left and began to walk, his eyes dull and his mind empty. It was only when he bumped into something that his mind stirred. He looked up with clouded eyes into those of a female Isnaroh. He didn't register her a normal animal would. He looked back down and began to walk again. The blood had long dried into his fur, turning it a ruddy red. His black hair hung limply over his left reddish black eye, the blue dye red. It took him a minute to register that he wasn't moving on his own. Someone was carrying him. His legs hung limply and slowly, his eyes closed. It didn't matter. His life was already nonexistent. Maybe it was death, coming to carry him into the realm of the dead.
When Izaya awoke, his fur was clean and he felt warm. He stirred and looked to the source of warmth. it was the female. She smiled down at him, but Izaya's mind was still shut down. He looked away and lied his head on his paws, staring into space. His ears dimly registered her speaking. "He'll come back on his own Zena... Don't worry." A male voice said. "But I'm worried...." She whispered. She licked the top of his head, to no response. The male sighed. "Give him time Zena. I don't know what happened to him, but It must have been traumatizing. I mean, he was practically coated in three layers of blood!" The male said. The fmeale sighed. "Alright." She whispered. At that point, Izaya's vision dimmed out and he retreated into the empty blackness of sleep.
It took many years before Izaya finally began to show life. By then, Zena, the Alpha female, had adopted him as her own son. Izaya became a trainee and works hard at training. But when ever somebody brings up curiosity on his unknown past, Izaya shuts down. Becomes like a zombie. This is enough to scare them away, but sometimes someone is stupid enough to taunt him for his lack of real parents. That's about the time when somebody get's hurt. Or dead.
Other: Nothing. Just that he's like 'Damaged Goods,' for lack of a better term.
Three Facts
The Isnaroh's live on a world called Anteer.
Humans created the Sorith, saber fanged elk.
At the center of the humans chaos was a black panther colored Isnaroh named Dacal.
