Name: Markus<br/>Age: 27<br/>Gender: Male<br/>Species: Wolf<br/>Personality: Markus is - as almost anyone who knows him will tell you - sadistic and a borderline sociopath. He has trouble perceiving others as sentient beings and equals, rather than meat or playthings. Even before the shortages that caused the current crisis, Markus was no nice fellow and some poor bastard would vanish into his stomach (or whichever orifice he felt like feeding) every now and then. He was known as a big player in the criminal underworld - mainly as a scary enforcer that no one wanted to mess with, lest they end up next on the menu. Before the crisis, people might have eventually worked up their courage and stood up against him - but now, with hunger rampant and the mindset of every man for himself spreading like wildfire, Markus finds he can hunt<span style="font-style: italic">much</span>more than he used to. Rumor has it that Markus keeps a 'trophy room' in his basement, containing some memento from each meal he's made of another sentient thus far. No one can confirm this though - the very same rumor also says that anyone who's treated to Markus' grisly collection soon becomes the latest addition.<br/><br/>Description: Markus stands an imposing 7'3", and is heavily muscled, enough so that it shows through the thick black fur that covers his body. His dark fur is unkempt and badly cared for, as it was before the crisis but has only grown worse with the lack of various modern amenities. Markus' grins are incredibly intimidating - partly because of his mouthful of yellowing razor-sharp fangs, but mostly because Markus lacks any subtly in his grins and his intentions come across as clear as daylight. His eyes - only a few shades more yellow than his mistreated fangs - are similarly lacking in subtly. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, it's plain that Markus' soul is twisted and wicked.<br/>Likes: Anything goes<br/>Dislikes: N/A<br/>Prey/Pred Ratio: 10/90 (heavily pred - but could be prey if one was powerful enough to overcome him)<br/><br/>Name: Grant<br/>Age: 23<br/>Gender: Male<br/>Species: Fox<br/>Personality: Grant is hopelessly optimistic and likes to look for the best in people and situations. He's sure that they'll pull through this tough time just fine and is also sure that the measures NIGHT has taken are for everyone's safety and the greater good. Grant lost his original means of income when his employer vanished and the company he worked for crumbled under the weight of the crisis, Grant is now currently employed at bar, helping the bartender serve drinks and various other tasks. Occasionally he'll vanish off to the back rooms with a customer for a different sort of business to augment his income and hopefully keep himself fed another day.<br/><br/>Description: Grant is short, standing a little under five feet tall, and thin with a runner's build. There's not very much to him that makes him stand out, however. Grant's got the same red and cream fur most foxes have, and the same black "gloves" and "socks" adorn his limbs. Grant personally considers it a blessing to have one of those faces that just blends into the crowds, as in times like these, standing out only works two ways - greatly, or extremely poorly. Between his job and his side job, Grant manages to make enough to get by reasonably well, and is well-groomed and energetic each day, as if sure the crisis would end that very afternoon.<br/>Likes: Anything goes<br/>Dislikes: N/A<br/>Prey/Pred Ratio: 85/15 (Grant is too nice to run around eating people - unless he was thrown into the proper circumstances. Grant is however, far more likely to end up on someone else's menu, having only his speed and wit to keep him from such a fate. )