§‡Zenaku‡§

[§‡Zenaku‡§]

Name; Zenaku **Zen for short**
Age; 1 year and 9 months
Gender; Male
Breed; timber

Desired Pack; Cestos

Appearance: Zen has a long muzzle, covering his sharp canines. His eyes sparkle when he is excited about something, usually something bad. Zenaku 's eyes are an icy blue, helping to make his glares more menacingly. Plus, there are black streaks that come down from his right eye, like a soft flowing river. His ears point to the sun, but with all that beauty, his right ear has a little piece missing from it from a fight long ago.

Zenaku has a heavy coat of grey and white. It greatly protects his if he is in a fight because there's so much fur. It does tend to get lost in the late spring and summer. For those times, he depends on his nails, which are greatly covered by the loose fur on his paw. Zenaku's tail has a black tip at the end of it, like it was dipped in paint. The rest of it just has streams of grey washing down on it. Not to mention that his legs even have black 'river' streaks flowing down to his paws.

Personality: Zenaku holds his head high. He has no regard for other wolves' saftey and could care less if they get hurt. The only time he would care about anyone else would be if he was in a pack. But even then he wouldn't wouldn't treat people very kindly. He doesn't go kindly on his mate either. He's rude and he likes it that way.

Zenaku usually keeps to himself usually unless needs be that he is involved in a conversation. One of his favorite things to do is get into a fight, especially if they are from another pack. Zen, even when he was born, had always a mean streak in him. He's the vicious, quiet type.

History:When Zenaku was born, he had 3 other siblings, 2 sisters and one other brother. Zenaku was the oldest and he loved showing his dominance over the others by pouncing, biting, and tackling. This was done easier with the females for they were always small. His mother was also a prime target. Not ever knowing his father, or other wolves for that matter (his mother was a rogue), he would often fight with his mother. It wasn't so bad when he was young but as he grew older, he became stronger.

One day, Zen was wrestling with his brother. He was winning and that only made him more hyped. His brother was bleeding from the ear, caused by Zen grabbing a hold of it and pulling hard, tearing a piece off the corner. His brother was whining a lot but Zen was in no way inclined to stop. The adrenaline was too fun. Making a move for his neck, his mother stopped him and pulled him off his brother. Zen grew anger and lashed out at his mother. He bit her muzzle, leg and ear. He tackled her to the ground. His mother fought back, making him bleed above his nose.

After that day, Zenaku left the safety of his family. He felt that they didn't understand him and he was in no way going to wait around while the bossed him about being nicer to his brother and sisters. Zen has lived on his own for quite some time now. No place he can home.

RP example; [[this is a role play i am doing with my friend]] "Humph. So this is Seven Voices Academy ," grunted Akito. He steadily walked toward the building, fighting the heavy breeze pushing against him. His silver bangs parted to show writing on his forehead, reading Hopeless. He didn't really know where it had come from; it just sort of appeared one day. No matter how hard he scrubbed, the words Hopeless would still remain, not even giving a hint that all the washing was even making a difference. If anything, the writing only seemed to become bolder.

Pushing open the glass doors, Akito was greeted by a receptionist. Standing up from her seat, she asked, “Akito Shima?” Akito had to hold back some rude remarks after seeing how tall the receptionist was to his height. She was probably 3 inches taller than him and she was what, 37? She does where some wrinkles here and there… Directing Akito where to go, the receptionist’s cropped hair swung to and fro. What a nuisance this woman must be, Akito thought. Bring him back to the situation at hand, the receptionist said, “Please, this way to the meeting room.”

Walking in alone, Akito studied the room. There was a window, a chair, and two pictures of Japanese cherry blossoms. Aside from being quite dull, Akito had to admit that the photographer for the cherry blossoms had talent. Photography, but only if it was good, was a thing Akito liked to do in his spare time. You might as well stop if you had no talent. Finally deciding to sit down, Akito pushed in his glasses and waited for whatever was going to happen.