Hauden Vör, wip.

[markab]

Name: Hauden "Prometheus" Vör
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Species: Ferret
Occupation: Trickster and wanderer
Alignment: Neutral

Physical Appearance:

At first glance, it's clear he's a bit on the short side. The average of his species would tower over him by a few inches at the very least, and this height difference is not helped by the missing tips of his ears, cleanly cut through as if he had not struggled when they were being removed. Indeed, by the decorations covering them, it is clear that he is not exactly upset about this loss -- a gold ring near the top of each and a hook through the base of the left where it connects to his head, similar to what you'd get if you broke the hook off of a fishing line, except instead of being attached to line it is attached to a pale sky-blue feather, edged with white and striped with charcoal grey. It stands out quite vividly against the light silvery fuzz covering the curve of his ear, fur that recedes to bare the pink skin underneath on its inside, perfectly identical to its twin on the other side of his skull.

The silvery blue-gray of his eyes nearly matches the color of the feather, equally stark when standing out against the faint black mask circling both his eyes and running down in a strip of ebony to end just before the tip of his nose. They sparkle with a kind of good-natured mischief that can, unfortunately, turn cruel just as quickly as it can turn friendly. Under the leathery black of his nose, similar to a bat’s wings, his expression is a strange thing; more often than not, his mouth is twisted up in something a hybrid of a smile and a smirk that exposes just a flash of milk-white teeth, sharp as needles, and that crinkles his eyes slightly in clear amusement. But those are teeth that can be put to deadly purpose should the need arise, and certainly just because they're white doesn't mean that blood hasn't run over them before. It's just not something that frequently happens, as he prefers to play jokes than to kill.

For the most part, the fur and skin of his face and neck are unmarked, perfectly pristine and neatly groomed. A blend of cream, silver, white, gray, and black is speckled almost haphazardly along his face; the dark mask, the fur between his ears shaded to gray and to the color of a raven's feathers, the ruff of brown edging the tufts of fur along the sides of his face darkening into black down his neck. In fact, the only disfiguring mark -- besides the neat cut of his ears, done with such precision it is hardly noticeable as an injury at all -- is the thin hairless pink scar dragging towards his cheek from the right edge of his mouth, just slightly lengthening his smile into something decidedly eerie, which doesn't do much in the ways of helping him appear less like your standard vermin, as if his smile/smirk wasn't creepy enough. His tendency to scratch at it frequently doesn't help draw anyone's attention away from its existence, either.

He's a fairly skinny thing, normal for a ferret -- not too bony, not too wiry, but caught in just the right place. He's quick enough that he can make a run for it when someone gets fed up with his pranks or to flee the scene before someone discovers the mess he's created, but muscular enough to land a fairly solid hit in case he needs to defend himself. Together with his lack of height, however, he doesn't look like much at all -- but even with his reasonable fighting abilities, most of his skill lies in his quick tongue and his quicker hands, the capability to set up traps and deceive and then come in for the final blow if he really needs to. He prefers to stay far away from conflict, though, as evidenced by his lack of scars, and he doesn't call himself trickster for nothing. His build is just fine for his line of work, even if he's never going to quite be warlord material.

The line of his shoulders is slight, a bit odd in comparison to the length of his arms which almost look overly stretched, wiry with a bit more muscle around the bone than is required to give them significant mass. But they're good for reaching, and his fingers at the ends are perfect for the tasks he carries out too -- attention to detail is one thing he's perfectly adapted for with his long thin fingers and the sharp-edged claws they're attached to. More than often said claws are stained with any number of strange liquids, berry and plant juices and blood being the most prominent among them, and they usually give said claws, due to their translucent color, a strange tint that makes it obvious he's been messing around with something. Usually he's rather careful to keep them clean, however, along with the rest of his body. As is clear by the near-pristine state of his fur, he doesn't enjoy being dirty.

Usually, he holds himself in a sort of languid slouch that displays the points of his vertebrae jutting out of his back even with the muscle mass and layer of fat he still retains. It's not so much out of any defensive instinct as it is laziness, and sometimes he slouches against a tree instead; it all depends on his position and his mood. Leaning back displays the 'v' of light black fur between both of his forearms, trailing down his body before it fades back into a light cream just above his stomach, the sinuous arch of his body down to his legs and footpaws, where the black resumes, turning pitch-dark by the time it reaches his feet. The claws on his feet are a great deal darker than the ones on his hands -- almost perfect ebony, longer and a bit duller due to their constant contact with the ground.

Trailing behind him, his tail takes on around the same hues of the rest of his coat -- largely black, brown, and gray, with a speckle of cream at the base where it attaches to the rest of his body. Similar to his ears, the tip of it has been cut off -- but this injury is a bit less clean, slightly ragged, only half-healed to the point where the bone is hidden and only half the fur has grown back. As such, he holds it well off the ground, and keeps it in perfect condition, frequently grooming it even when it's not dirty in the slightest. It gives a bit of a hint as to his current mood, too -- when he's amused, it wags back and forth, similar to a cat, but when he's irritated the smooth movement turns to a lash, a bit like a whip.

The build of his legs is a bit shorter and stockier than his arms but, even so, that doesn't mean he's no good for running. In fact, it has a bit of advantage when it comes to things like climbing trees, as it means he has the power in his legs to hang upside down, leaving himself the ability to use his hands as he sees fit, and if he gets knocked over while in a tree he won't hurtle to the ground and break every bone in his body. He’s athletic enough, too, that he’d probably flip onto his paws before he hit the ground, should the need arise – and he’s pretty good at getting through pain, which is why through all his accidents he still manages to stay in shape and on his feet.

He’s not really one for weapons. That’s not to say he doesn’t carry them around, because he does, albeit only a single one – a silvery sword, with a bit of an overly long hilt and an extra-thick blade, that rarely ends up in his paw; more often it’s close by, strung in the makeshift sheath along his back or clutched between his teeth as he scales a tree. A length of fabric runs over his right shoulder, down to loop around his waist, and then back up; a dark red a few shades off from the color of blood, with the sheath sewn onto the back, of a perfect position to draw the blade if he needs it.

Possessions:

Hauden doesn’t carry many things; he prefers to travel light, to scavenge on the way if he needs to; he’s creative and intelligent enough that he can make a living out of nearly anything he comes across, and thus he doesn’t even have any form of pouch to hold anything he finds. The only stuff he has with him constantly are his gold earrings, the hook stuck through his ear, the sash wrapping around his body and the silvery blade that he takes out very sparingly anyway – and then, more often than not, he can be found with his paws full of something that he’s using in his latest elaborate prank.

• Red sash
  
• Gold earrings
  
• Hook earring
  
• Silver sword
  

Personality:

To most, it's not hard to peg Hauden as your standard trouble-causing vermin. First glance shows what certainly appears to be your average ferret; a crafty, slim thing with a penchant for shiny decorations on his ears. And his smile certainly doesn't help his case -- it's clearly mischievous, the expression of someone plotting something, and that's only made more apparent by the amused, curious glitter in those icy blue eyes, his standard look when meeting someone new. Certainly he tries to appear as nothing special; special gets otherbeasts interested in you, gets you hurt or drawn into conflicts that aren't yours or gets you killed and, unfortunately, he knows that very well. So even if he's not the atypical 'burn down your home and slaughter your family' type, he doesn't do a bad job pulling it off on the surface.

Strengths:
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Weaknesses:
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History:
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