Creole is nothing short of miraculous and immaculate. The beast stands a towering 38 inches and is built almost entirely of toned muscle, the male has bright citrine eyes that some swear glow in the darkness of night, dark pupils gaze deep, almost right through you. Sharpened teeth hang from a strong jaw, ready to snap and crack the next thing that even looks at the sire wrong.

Medium-long fur falls from the males body, flowing and always pristine. Creole takes high pride in his appearance and the only time he leaves himself unkept is when he shifts into his more "temperamental" self. His form is covered in snow, soft and silky, near flat against his strong lean shape. The tail attached to his backside stands tall, only dipping when absolutely necessary, fur falling from the appendage in a wave, flowing beautifully behind him.

Under such silky fur the warrior is built almost entirely of muscle. Toned and taught he is built for war, his light footed steps and manipulative nature are good for spy work as well but there is no denying what he was born for. A war god he moves with quick steps and has trained himself to bounce on his pads as needed, avoiding hits and blows that would often land on a lesser beast.

Atop the males head, encircling his ears, is a crown made of some sort of golden metal. Twisted the crown weaves together in a wreath of thorns, the thorns of those golden vines made of a dark onyx material. The crown is tight, barely moving, though with enough aggression it could be thrown from his temples.

PLEASE NOTE THE BANDS AROUND HIS LEGS IN THE IMAGES ARE NOT PRESENT ON CANIS. THESE ARE OLD REFERENCE IMAGES AND THE ONLY ONES I HAVE AVAILABLE.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING

Creole is the manifestation of something sinister and dark. Everything about this beast screams to one to turn tail and run, but something seductive about this monster often draws one in to the mystery of him. Jowls often bare sharp teeth that curl into a dark dangerous smile, the nature of the fake gesture often hides ulterior motives of either desire or destruction.

The sociopath often doesn't have any regard for another but what they can provide for him. His head is a swirling whirlwind of madness and sound, the voices and screams never ceasing to exist in the back of his mind. The tools for his chaotic existence. Creole always comes first, there is no other in his mind that is more important, he will serve a community if it suits his needs but the male is a loner at heart, preferring solitude over the he company of another. Unless he is taking them to bed, then there will be no other then the one under.

On the rare occasion, and I mean extremely rare occasion, one catches him on a good day they can catch him alone singing along with the voices and screams. Melodies of the cursed will flow from charcoal lips, sometimes accompanied by a hip sway and a tail whip dancing steps into the ground of the souls he's stolen. The scars he has reaped.