Samuel the Ginger

Out of Character

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Samuel --
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Sat Jan 13, 2018 7:21 pm David!Heaven!NOW!#3337
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Sat Jan 13, 2018 11:56 pm
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In Character

Male 13 Jul 2017
Wolf Ortus
The Coat
Samuel's pelt consists of various shades of gray, a gradient from one shade to another visible in all of his forms. A light mask is evident as well, perhaps the most notable feature regarding the patterns. Moving toward the back of his neck, the same gray shows as a "saddle" pattern, along with the fading from dark to light. His legs are as light as his face and are likely to be described as "socks." Occasional darkened spots are thrown across the lighter areas.

The Facial Features
With eyes as deep as emeralds, it's hard not to get lost in his gaze. The light flecks of viridescent jade dance in his irises when the sun shines on him, arguably his most envied feature.
His tongue (which usually hangs out regardless of his emotion) is a light pink, usual for wolves. His teeth are slightly yellowed and dull. His overall oral hygiene is exceptionally well.

Accessory and "Tag"
Around his neck is a green collar along with a broken chain. His ear is tagged with the characters "G" and "6."

Amputation
His left front leg is nonexistent, basically. All that is left is a stub wrapped in medical tape and bandages, all of which are dirtied and worn down.

Height: 23 inches
Weight: 64 lb
Externally, he's a doormat and a pushover. Never in his life has he stood up to anyone, and he most likely never will. He tends to speak softly and without much aim. His voice is slightly raspy, as rarely uses it- he prefers not to. Samuel is never able to find the right words for what his mind is screaming at him to say. At times, however, he can be snarky and irritant. When he's feeling this way, his ears will either flatten or turn to the sides. This is normally when his mind is finally able to take over, or the "internal" Samuel. Elaboration on the subject comes later. Submissive and laid-back is the best way to describe his external personality.

Internally, however, he's pissed and explosive. Nobody wants to be around this version on him, plain and simple. If this side is to take over, his voice becomes loud and aggressive. He speaks clearly and is able to find every word in the "Dipshit Dictionary." An eerie tone is found lurking between his lines, and a flash of hatred and/or anger flashes in his eyes. This side of him is extremely rare to witness or see, only showing when he has "snapped."
Born and abandoned. He was the runt. Samuel never developed social skills, as he was unable to contact anyone outside of his small den. The young wolf longed to communicate, so much so that he went to the extent to speak with himself. He had never shifted. Of course, he knew what he was capable of, but he came to the conclusion that it was the reason he was left to perish. His size never seemed to bother him.

Many things are still unanswered. The tag and collar are out of the question. Nobody, not even Samuel, is able to figure it out.

However, he remembers one incident all too well.
It was stormy and dismal. His chin, he remembers, was resting on his left paw, and the rest of his body was sprawled across the dirt. Samuel glanced around approximately four times before standing and padding towards the bushes. Before he could leap through, he felt himself face down on the ground. His leg had gotten stuck in a rabbit hole for the fifth time. A whine sounded from the wolf as he attempted to push himself up, only to hear a muffled hiss from below him. Afterwards, pain struck his lower leg. He yelped and flailed, eventually being able to yank his paw from the hole and bound away. The pain was unbearable. It coursed through his veins as if it were his own blood. Samuel felt his leg become stiff. There was only one way he could think of stopping it. With little hesitation, he rammed into a tree.

Black.

He woke up.
He was unable to move.
The sky was bright and shimmering. He rolled onto his back, examining his right leg-

Wait.

Where was his left leg?
Panic began to flutter in his chest like moths. Where was he? What had happened to him? Where the hell was his leg? His mind raced. Sitting up, Samuel licked his chops, lazily gazing around.

Perhaps he'd start over.
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