he is a thinly built wolf, though his conformation is far from small. venextos carries himself carefully - his posture neither authoritative nor submissive. his thick fur is the color of sullied snow and frozen earth, as if wrought by some hyperion order in the name of cold and sunder. every piece of his frame has been keenly fashioned for the tundra's hearth; from his angular limbs to his sparse, stayer's build. his muzzle is marred by flecks and knobby scars of past altercations, with the bridge of his nose the most battered. both ears have been whittled away by frostbite, though his left is nearly entirely gone. it is a cold reminder of the harsh landscape that he sprung from.