Human form:

Of those in your near proximity, not many might stand out as much as Vincent. Towering to the impressive height of 6,1', he would have a hard time seeing others without a cordial head craning. He appraises those that come and go with mulled restraint. Wherever he goes, his very scent lingers; an aromatic affair between lilac and plain scent of forest.

His body, albeit typically most of it appears obscured behind a set of simple, comfortable garnment, have been worked over impossible multitudes of time - creating a figure of pristine peak build, muscles that would fulfill any maiden's fantasy, only the uncanny scar and bruise reduce from his otherwise flawless definition. His face is somewhat shrouded behind an unkempt mass of dark hair, although what's revealed is quite appealing. His eyes are two lustrous pearls of stark red, piercing their mark when his stare is focused, and leave a paralyzing fear in their spine, as if they've been selected for dinner.

Wereworg form:

The towering beast before you moves with fierce agility. It can easily rise past the mightiest of orcs and rival the height of ogres, and so its size comes in conflict with how swiftly and gracefully it takes its steps. What does not puzzle you in the creature's footsteps is the terrible reek, of gore and ash it leaves behind. This, combined with the unpleasant stench of hounds bathing in the rain will easily alarm even the dimmest of idiots. The creature before you is a lycanthrope.

Sinewy black mounds of flesh with hideously arranged spines, like abandoned surgical paraphernalia, tossed aside after a botched experiment cross this lycanthrope's facial features with perfect symmetrical alignment. Though already fearsome and monstrous, this is what experienced adventurers or would-be lore-lovers consider abnormal, as this generally bears the mark of the hells or some other fiendish legacy. Adding to this anomaly is the terrifying pair of eyes glowing in the dark, of color crimson red and of no promise of mercy behind them.

The large sabers it would call claws trail through the wind, letting sickly howls shatter the silence.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wj9jkVQS-No

Not tell friendly save for situations that call for OOC communication as absolute necessity.








































































































































































































I was the lone wolf,
in you, I found my home.
My dream came true,
I wasn't alone.

I lived in the night,
you gave me the light.
I realised soon,
you were my moon.

I fought for you,
but I lost the fight.
Alone again,
I live in the night.

I wander through forests,
with my broken heart.
Cursing the fate
that made us to part.

I'll howl for you,
till the day I die.
You are my moon,
for you I cry.