Satchel is a sturdy beast, built upon blood and dust. His large frame is muscular and prone, giving him an almost chiseled effect. He could easily pass for one of the finer specimens of his breed, a pale off white hide flecked with darker points. He is a flexible and sure footed beast, large splayed paws making it easier to move over different terrain.
His limbs are long and graceful, each step well placed. Weithout any sound he moves, observing his world with little indifference. The most striking thing about him would be his eyes. They are an intense and brilliant shade of orange, like remnants of a dying sun. Like Molten lava they flow with a strange intensity, brimming with some rare intelligence that few can understand. They are little windows into his soul, unabashed by what they see. Rimming these wonderus hues is a faint out line of black, almost like tear stains.
He is a fine beast, semi transparent in the way he carries himself. His bulk is mostly made of muscle, and shaggy alabaster fur. He is a curious creature, always ready to take on the world. He is a lean and taunt beast, prone to skinny persuasions. Long and slender he is built for dancing, perfect balance giving him good rhythm. He is fast on his feet, but not as bulky as other males his size. Where they depend on brute force he relies on quick reflex's and limber footing. He is tireless in his toils, never giving in to sleep until he is dead on his paws. Always eager to do or see something, his mind is in constant motion in the waking world.
He has been on the road for some time, worn pads and ruffled fur testifying to this fact. His fur is very rough at the edges, shaggy and loose even during summer. Because of his bloodline he is an impressive animal, weighing in at 167 lbs pounds. He is a fluid and lithe creature, a finely carved head giving him an almost Adonis like effect. He almost always is stained with dust, his pale hide a regal mess.
Personality
His i.q is in the 170 range, either a genius or a fool at this point the guess is just a good. A sterile organ beating in his chest, no emotions dare lurk least he devour them alive. He wasn't always this way, but scars run deep. And his own sense of self loathing runs worse.
He fears no one on this mortal plain, nothing can deter him from going all out because you can only die once and he is not about to do. He is of fickle intentions, never able to just sit still. He needs to see, feel, touch, learn everything. Like a constant burning hunger he must know the absolute truth of the world, despite the conscienceless rebuff he often receives. He is a bold little shit, back during the war he fought on the front lines just to see how it felt. He has a personal philosophy to never compromise, even if it brings about his own demise.
Once He was The Absolute Definition Of Monster.
Now??
All he can hold close is regret.
An underling dilemma, he wants nothing more then to start over. Goodness was never his first intent, but as he has grown so has his own self awareness. Once he might of been the very first to spill your blood, now he can barely stand the sight. Terrible is as terrible does, but sometimes you have to break the cycle.
He is still prone to aggression and sarcastic outburst, but even stronger now is the need to make things ok again. To be, ok again.
