Profile of Leslie

✧ The mark of fangs, slashing talons, burns, and staggering twist of broken bones force Leslie to move with a rather jarring gait in efforts of evading discomfort. Awkward misaligned limbs trembling whenever too much weight is bore upon the worst of such traumas.

✧ Soft eyes peer out into the world reflecting internal sadness though to those merely observing the color which shimmers against the light, they shine in reddish-pink tones with pupils ringed in blueish hues.

✧ Mutagen: tri-gaze with a central eye possesses two iris/pupils + some fang duplication within mouth

He was taught to serve, to bend to another’s whims without question, surely it would lessen any punishment for thoughtless acts whenever courage managed to rear its ugly head; banishing flourishing unease. Yet no matter how one may hope - he knows better - disappointment could be death and while one may have wished for such an embrace there have been passing moments in this walking realm which drive him to hold ever tighter to an ever flickering flame.

Slow to form trusting bonds he looks upon others - whether they be stranger or not - wish suspicion lacing his gaze. A constant worry that they may turn on him at any given moment, the second he is seen as useless to them. Such a time no doubt lurking just around the bend. However, despite this distrustful nature Leslie is rather gullible. Easy to sway into doing things he knows one shouldn’t, acts that go against his better judgment.

Naivety plagues him. The boy aiming to please any that grow close to him or at least manage to weasel their way into his mind. Hovering around such beings for a passing sense of stability even if it will never calm high strung nerves. Festering anxieties that will never quiet for he’s convinced danger lies upon every rising sound or motion, illusions blending with reality. But no matter his worries, he is dangerously curious, forcing himself to ignore both real and fabricated dangers for that fleeting chance of something better.

Despite being bore into the volatile ranks of the Drih'liri Leslie was seen as nothing more than an outsider to this supposed ‘family’. True parents slaughtered he became a slave beneath a proclaimed master’s paw, trained via violent reaction to bend to the whims of his betters. A youth taught just enough to survive and serve, to hunt and tend to the maladies which may plague, to communicate with the clan and no other. Over time he earned enough leniency, falsely placed trust that terror would keep him grounded, bid him to come crawling back time and time again. Instead, while hesitant at first, he slipped away under the guidance of another - one he worries may still trail his steps. Leaving paranoia to flood an already unstable mind.