[Kenai Peninsula x Arctic] Sabaoth Apr 24, 2015 13:00:56 GMT -5
Post by Sabaoth on Apr 24, 2015 13:00:56 GMT -5
Years RPing: 97 (jk like 5 or 6 now)
Other: Adopted this boy from Zen~
How You Found Us: Aliens
Name: Sabaoth (Sab-ay-OTH)
Birthday: April 19th, 2013
Species: Kenai Peninsula x Arctic Wolf
Height: 46 inches
Length: 83 inches
Coat Color: A mixture of black and gray, with white sections mottling his face and body
Eye Color: Light blue
Health Issues: Scarring across the face and legs
Other Information: Belial x Ahri pup. Inherited increased size.
Mental Stability: Unstable
Sabaoth was born nestled between two massive brothers and one diminutive sister within the borders of the Ferus pack’s territory. They were the first and only litter to be born of Belial and Ahri, the begotten spawns of rape and power comingled. It was clear from the beginning that the three boys would grow to greatness despite the circumstances of their upbringing, and indeed as the months passed, so did their innocence. They grew alarmingly fast, towering over their mother within months, and thus Sabaoth came to be. He was never particularly close with any of his siblings, preferring to spend time alone than with the untroubled Isaiah or Goliath, who seemed to have formed a keen interest in their sole sister, Aaricia. Sabaoth usually paid little attention to this; from the beginning he was content to spend his time growing into his ever-changing body, or sparring with any pack members who would entertain his youthful energy. However, Sabaoth was prone to tiny bouts of envy and resentment watching his parents with his siblings, and Goliath with Aaricia. He would never be as close as they were in his mind, and this would sometimes irritate him. Even at a very young age, Sabaoth showed early signs of his temper. He often took to sulking if something did not go his way, switching quickly from playful to sullen and moody.
It was not long, however, before Ferus fell apart. Sabaoth can still clearly remember the day when the wolves of a foreign pack, Osani, descended upon the members of Ferus. The smell of blood was thick, the cries of wolves ringing in Sabaoth’s ears as he struggled to find his siblings, his parents, anyone. While instincts urged him to flee, he could not bring himself to, and while he did not find his siblings, he finally came upon Ahri. Frenzied, his mother forced Sabaoth and his siblings from Ina’mos, driving them into the water. The waves were treacherously high, and while Sabaoth managed to scale them and escape with his life, he found that he had been separated from all of his siblings. He washed onto shore soaked, dazed, and entirely alone.
In the months that passed, resentment and hatred festered in Sabaoth’s gut. Despite his young age when being forced from Ina’mos, he was still considerably larger than others of his time, and it was ultimately how he survived. He’d been taught somewhat of hunting before the downfall of Ferus, although naturally he’d never done so on his own or very seriously. His knowledge was put to the test in order to survive; in the beginning he feasted upon small prey such as hare and snakes, but as he grew seemingly with each day, these meager meals left his belly rumbling by nightfall. Eventually he grew large enough that his size alone assisted him in taking down larger prey, and with time, he honed his skills.
Through all of this, Sabaoth remained alone, his anger and loathing for the injustice done to his family simmering until it finally exploded. It was in the aftermath of a failed hunt when a deer just narrowly managed to escape his grasp. For the briefest moment he’d stood still, staring blankly, the fire building within his veins until suddenly he exploded. He raged through the forest like a deranged beast, killing any unfortunate creature who crossed his path, leaving a trail of trembling rabbits and crushed ferns in his wake. It was during his intense moment of fury that he stumbled upon the den of a cougar, and it was ultimately the blood that clung to his pelt – and perhaps his monstrous size as well, for he’d grown massive in the many months since his swim from Ina’mos – that caused the new mother to charge. It was a fierce battle that shook the earth, wrenching dirt and bushes from their homes, snarls of rage and pain rolling like thunder. He was very nearly evenly matched in size to her, if not larger and heavier, and in the end he killed her, his jaws closing over her throat. It was her hot blood and the vicious fight that sated Sabaoth’s anger, but he did not emerge from the altercation unscathed. His forelegs were slashed and bloody just beneath his chest, although his face had taken the brunt of it. Four long swipes had marred his muzzle, crossing over his nose, and her claws had very nearly taken one of his eyes out, leaving the flesh above swollen and pouring.
For a fortnight, Sabaoth’s recovered in the cougar’s den, which he’d purged of the remaining cubs and used to chase away his hunger. While he was sure to clean his wounds daily with the water from the nearest stream, there was nothing more he could do. He was not a healer, and though he recovered after many nights spent snarling over his misfortune, he survived. His scars, however, remained. It was of little matter to Sabaoth, who had never cared much for looks. After making a healthy recover, he set forth once more to journeying with fresh battle scars upon his colossal frame, and it was during this time that he stumbled upon the most unlikely of wolves: Isaiah, second born brother, unscathed and just as massive as Sabaoth himself was. While Sabaoth had never harbored overly fond feelings for his family, he could not deny that fate had brought them together once more, and so it was united that they set off into the world. All the while, the haze of red and the sinister ocean of anger simmered beneath his skin.
Sabaoth has always had, and always will have, an explosive temper. He is a grenade waiting to detonate at the slightest provocation, often times without any sign of warning. It is impossible to calm him when he has flown into one of his fits of rage; better to take cover than to dare attempt to approach him. His colossal size does nothing to lessen the intimidating air that surrounds him, and he revels in this knowledge, for Sabaoth finds something alluring in the spark of fear in one’s eyes. On many occasions he has been described as a savage, and indeed his violent temperament and harsh scars do nothing to disprove this claim. He shows no mercy for those who cross him, and never will you hear an apology slide from his lips concerning the nature of his edginess nor his temper.
Sabaoth is highly intelligent. He is cautious, each of his actions premeditated and never brash – with, of course, the exception of his tantrums. He could easily be considered brooding, for he conceals his emotions beneath a cruel mask and is not known to show compassion for any living creature. His past still plagues him with every massive step, and it is this that separates Sabaoth so sharply from his brothers. Never has Sabaoth cared for appearances or glory – no, it is the tempting promises of retribution that bind him for eternity. Despite their differences, Sabaoth still stands with his brothers, albeit a bit stoically. When it comes to love, it is an emotion that Sabaoth cannot and will not understand. Any femme who dares to attempt closeness with Sabaoth risks herself in the face of his tantrums, and possession, as well as pain, is the closest Sabaoth will ever come to understanding “love”. He is prone to enjoying the chase of things, however, whether that be femme or prey. Overall, Sabaoth is driven by his desire for vengeance and blood; there is nothing that could sway him from his path, and no one who can alleviate his hatred for the world.