Race: Lupinal
Age: 23
Description:
Like poisoned silk a viciously seductive voice curls out and caresses your ears, tenderly running its verbal tongue along the tips of the lobes and into your mind where the charismatic vocalizations entwine your thoughts like a steel trap, demanding your attention.
Such vivid verbalizations envision your mind to it's wildest fancies and fantasies, such vistas of colorization and plateaus of thought, one might begin to wonder if there isn't something wrong with how perfect the voice sounds.
It purrs, whispers, begs to be heard, leading one to look to the being who could make such a tender noise of affection.
The fur that covered the monsterous wolf was tinted red, the ebon midnight coat soft and cared for, his nails were well trimmed and his body clean so much that he was almost cosmopolitan. His stature and demeanor seemed to practically emblazen dominance upon the observer's eyes. This was not a male to be trifled with.
Despite his looks, he seemed to be almost constantly smiling, his honeyed words and kind nature exhuming an aura of pleasantry. Even when his face wasn't smiling, the rest of his body surely was. Sculpted and muscular, tall and alluring, he smelled enriched with an irresistable soft scent of incense, an aromatic ambience of delight that drew one's senses in and snared them there, a vicious trap of delightful evanesence that drew in feminine noses, and snared them with the richly scented musk of male.
His fangs were pearly white, as if he hadn't ever eaten a single day in his life to spoil their heavenly purity; eyes of exquisite gemstones of the richest blue, pools of azure, nay oceans of brilliant sapphire whos very waters were all a dangerous undercurrent, threatening to sweep one off their feet and drag them forever in like the current of a vortex.
Such a wolf, so radiant and beautiful, exquisit and pure, made the mind both want to stare in awe, to take in such an eden of the male form, and recoil in horror at the same time; for any natural mind realized the strangeness of it, the otherworldly way in which he was perfect, logic denied it to be possible. It was not natural, it was not normal, this was a creature perfect in such ways that could simply not be, casting an overtone of dark suspicion on the form by those not drawn in by the glamour. It was a lure, a trap, a venus fly plant ready to catch a fly. The word from his mouth scented like honey...
