<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/36/Wtguest.jpg)</div><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/36/Wtguest.jpg)</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"> Thrias ‘Longtooth’ Velarin</span><br/>By Cerigo</span></div><hr/><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Age:</strong> 31<br/><strong>Nation:</strong> Cairhein<br/><strong>Gender:</strong> Male<br/><strong>Orientation:</strong> Heterosexual<br/><strong>Talent:</strong> Wolfbrother(Almost lost to the Wolf)<br/><br/><strong>Position:</strong> Captive, formerly Tower Trained<br/><strong>Skills:</strong><br/><ul class="bbc_list"><li>Telepathic Communication with other Wolves</li><li>Dream-walking</li><li>Tracking</li><li>Survival/Wilderness Training</li><li>Trained Swordsman</li><li>Enhanced Senses</li></ul><br/><br/><strong>Appearance:</strong> The first thing noticed is the mount of unkempt dark black hair. It is a tangle of knots, hair, and perhaps even twigs that goes down to his shoulders. A long beard covers his jaw and neck, equally as kept but the one unnerving thing are the large burnished golden eyes. They reflect even the smallest amount of light, glistening with intelligence that should not be present within the mad. Extended canines that mimic that of the wolf have grown in his mouth and his nails have been seemingly filed down to small points to mimic claws. He wears tattered skins of prey long sense past or stolen for warmth. The only sign that the man has ever seen civilization is the sword that he wears along his back.<br/>He moves with an almost loping grace, which is equal parts unnerving and oddly beautiful, showing control and strength in muscles that few humans could ever have. When standing straight he is just under 6’2”. Underneath the layer of wild hair is a man of sharp angular features, handsome in his youth the weight of the world and survival has dulled the once charismatic features.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Personality:</strong><br/><em>Cautious</em> – a single mistake within the wilds leads to a quick death. Longtooth is one to observe first before acting.<br/><em>Earthy</em> – a man of necessities, he has long sense adapted to only require the basics often giving back to the earth and to the pack before taking any for himself<br/><em>Invulnerable</em> – Once committing to a fight there is no backing down. He gives everything to it shrugging off blows that would kill another man until the job is done. The wolf cares not about his injuries until the pack is safe<br/><em>Loyal</em> – The needs of the pack before the needs of the self<br/><em>Savage</em> – Kill or be killed, predator or prey. Choose now.<br/><em>Suspicious</em> – Humans are not to be trusted, they kill without need, hunt without being hungry. <br/><em>Wise</em> – While not always understanding the nuances of human behavior he can pick up on the minute details, filtering them quickly and reacting with a startling amount of inteligence<br/><br/>Previously:<br/>Arrogant<br/>Noble<br/>Cuthroat<br/><br/><br/><strong>History:</strong><br/><br/>Born in Cairhien to a small noble house, Thrias was the oldest of three sons. It was upon the young boy’s shoulders that they put the hopes of House Velarin. He was always at his father’s side, in business deals, negotiation, or even in battle. Every house had a standing army, a mark of prestige among the others houses about how much they could support or how well trained the men were. When Thrias was not learning what it meant to be noble, how to negotiate contracts, or how to play the great game he was working on the other task that his parents had put him up for. The hunt for a proper wife. There were no arranged marriages for the youth instead he was sent forth to find his own, seducing if required a high ranking woman to his bed so that his own family could flourish.<br/><br/>It worked, too well. When three of the families indicated that their daughters had agreed to their marriage, a crisis developed. The Velarin house acted quickly, sending their son off to the white tower like many other families did at that time to further his abilities in sword and command. The marriages were politely declined, some even funneled to the younger brothers much to the dismay of the original brides. Arriving at the tower was a wakeup call for the young noble. He was no longer special, no longer looked after, he was just another soldier on the line. The usual selfish behavior was beat out of him slowly but surely. He was never designated for a squad leader and constantly put at the bottom of the pack to learn humility.<br/><br/>He learned. The bruises and broken bones as the chain of command was applied directly to him but he learned something else in the process; that only those that had earned the right should lead. The Aiel war had long sense finished but that did not mean they all had accepted the peace equally. Skirmishes still happened. The young nobleman was called back to his home land, his skills and leadership sorely needed within the Queen’s armies. The young soldiers would never have a chance to be veterans. Their first contact with the enemy was destined to be their last. The men held, stood firm against the warriors buying the rest of the men a chance to retreat. One by one Thrias’s soldiers fell, one by one the spears grew closer.<br/><br/>He lashed out, snarling as he fought on. The skills that the tower had imparted making his life be sold in the blood of the fallen but there was a limit. There was a line, no man could hold forever. The spears found flesh and he screamed into the night, growling against the attackers as he surged forward for one last thrust. The scream was met with a howl, the battlefield was awash in chaos. The creator answered his unspoken prayer, the wolves came no doubt drawn to the bodies and blood laying open and waiting. He fought with them, fought beside them. Those golden eyes watching him and as he looked down at them he thought he could hear them but it was not words, no it was something more then words.<br/><br/>He <em>felt</em> them. Felt that they had been watching him for some time. Knew that suddenly they refused to sit there and watch him die joining the fray, admonishing him for forcing their hand as nothing more than a cub.<br/><br/>The years drifted by, the wheel continued to turn; the young noble faded away as the wolf grew stronger. It only took a year for the young noble to forget his name, using the wolven speech to become Longtooth. Three more before he thought of the pack before his own life. It did not take much longer before the speech of man hurt his throat and the mere thought of using words seemed foreign to the wolf. The disdain for the old world grew but he held on to the last vestiges of his humanity. It was the sword. The skills that he learned, that had been ingrained in him deeper than instinct remained. It was his survival, the only thing that made him equal to his brothers and sister.<br/><br/>It held on through he years, keeping him from being lost forever into the wolfdream. Their territory slowly expanded, drifting towards the blight so that they could hunt more dangerous game. The wolves resisted his suggestions, often challenging him but Longtooth would not be dissuaded. Something within him needed the fight, the challenge of the greater game. The half beasts, the never born, all of the shadows creation needed to return back to the earth. Slowly they lost more then they could replace. The weaker they became the more desperate the wolves became to prove themselves.<br/><br/>Eventually they fell. The instincts of the wolf infected man but never would they imagine that man’s pride would be reflected back. There was no such thing as a pitched battle to the wolves. Natural hunters that preferred to harry their prey until they were too exhausted to strike but on that fateful day they were spurred by something far more instinctual. A mother’s cry for its young, long had they lost the females within their pack, lost their families and their young. They leapt into that battle, interceding on the mother’s behalf striking instead of hunting. They initial flurry of teeth and bristled fur was ferocious but they had purchased the time that the men needed.<br/><br/>When they arrived they could only see a sea of enemies. There were no noble wolves but beasts driven mad by hunger that were competing with trollocs for the only source of food in the blight. Human flesh. Axe and sword bit at animal and shadow owned flesh until not a single beast remained on two or four legs. Longtooth had fallen, the wolves that still could scattered into the forest and others released their last howl into the darkness before joining the dream. Longtooth was viewed as a hero, brought back to the healers where they treated his wounds.<br/><br/>It all changed when he opened his eyes, the burnished gold orbs marking him as different. The snarl and growls as he searched for his pack and could not even feel them. He howled at the moon, the mournful noise giving the men gathered there a pause as they understood it for an expression of ultimate grief. They subdued him instead of killing him, bringing them to the Aes Sedai that had traveled to the blight. Seeing his eyes she did the only thing that she could think of and sent him back to the tower. He was different and the stories about how he fought, that the wolves moved with him too potent of a weapon to just dismiss out of hand.<br/><br/>He was caged, bound by iron and shipped to the tower.<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">OOC Notes:</span></span></div><hr/><strong>O&amp;O:</strong> The wolf understands sex in the form of dominance and strength, while capable of a softer expression it is only reserved for his mate. The man underneath is still unknown to his desires as he has yet to be awakened.<br/><strong>Available for bonding:</strong> No, plans with Shayella</div>