Name:
Kareem
"Noble, honorable, generous".
Age:
5.5 Years Old
Gender:
Male
Rank:
Second Male
Desired Rank:
Anything away from these males.
Appearance:
Kareem is not a small male. No, he is large, he is mighty, he stands among warriors as a large, imposing figure, standing at 4.4 feet tall and weighing a very solid high 550's pounds, he stands above many males that he comes across, although massive sizes aren't unheard of. Among his group, Kareem may not be the largest, but he's certainly up there. More often than not, his size has him standing out among crowds, and he's been quite large ever since he was young.
The males coat is primarily tan, the darkest parts among his back, and a lighter tan on his underbelly. The part of his mane that frames his face is a similar shade of tan, appearing almost bronze in some places, and it slowly darkens as it descends down his shoulders, over his head and across his chest to a dark brown, almost black. The dark color matches the hair at the end of his tail, and his mane reaches just between his forelegs, but not as far down his stomach as some males' do.
Kareem has a plethora of scars, some obvious, others not, and many are not things he's entirely willing to discuss or talk about. He isn't ashamed of the scars across his body, but if he can avoid talking about how he got them, he will. His eyes are a pale olive-like shade, with a scent not unlike the earthy smell that drifts from great plains, and a deep, baritone voice.
Personality:
Kareem is but a shell of the male he once was.
Once, the male was bright, loud, joyous. He had been generous, giving food from his maw, his sleeping spot, he'd give his pelt to another if they needed it. His presence had been a joyous one, his mere existence had drawn attention due to the loud aura of charm and friendliness, kindness, nobility and honor radiating from him so much it almost seemed accidental. And, truly, it may have been, it may not have been a conscious effort of his to appear so, and merely been who he was.
To Kareem, that male is dead. To Kareem, that male has rotted in his skin, been torn away from him by the raging floods, burned away by the hottest days, scorched off of his soul with violence and bloodshed. How could Kareem claim to be that same male, when he had so much blood on his paws, underneath his claws? How could he claim to be the male that loved all he came across, when a snarl is more often on his face than a smile, and a growl from his throat more often than words?
The male is hollow, he likes to think he enjoys feeling nothing anymore, that he has beat his emotions and thoughts into submission so thoroughly that he is unbreakable, that he is unstoppable, that he is powerful. His subconscious knows the truth. It knows that Kareem is a husk. He feels nothing so he does not feel the guilt, he feels nothing so he does not feel the pain, he feels nothing so his empathy does not rage and thrash against his insides. He has turned himself hollow to protect himself.
Violence has become his mindset, it has become his way of life. It is a safety net, a thing that he can trust. Words, emotions, thoughts, memories, dreams, they are fickle, they are untrustworthy. His fangs and his claws have always remained loyal to him, they have always done exactly as he intended, they have kept him safe and kept him sane. If he checks out mentally, Kareem knows, without a doubt, his fangs and claws will continue defending him, that they will protect him. His violence is the part of his soul that cares about him. The part of his soul that wants to protect him.
Kareem is not always angry, he is not a raging individual that gnashes his teeth and growls out of fury. No, Kareem is simply violent, a stone cold violent, a violence that doesn't need his rage to come forward. The switch can flip in his mind in a heartbeat, flipping from hollow to drawing blood. He sincerely believes those are his only two modes now, with a sprinkling of aggression every now and then, those are his only mindsets. He has yet to find someone or something that snaps him out of those and into any other mindset or headspace.
He's done what he had to, to survive. Many do not understand. He gave up trying to get them to understand a long time ago. He has turned into a good little soldier, a male that follows orders and has every intention of seeing his own orders carried out. If there's anyone who could make him see he's more than just a soldier, Kareem hasn't found them, and he doesn't hold onto hope anymore.
Crush:
Perhaps.
Mate:
None.
Offspring:
None
Kin:
Open
History:
Kareem was a member of the Ridge Pride in his youth. Born and raised there, his mother was an aged lioness named Maera. As she is no longer with the pride, the male can only assume she's passed on from old age. He left the pride when Mandlenkosi took over when he was a bit under 2 years old, and was on his own for a time before being picked up by the Ukufa Coalition for his size.
While he may have climbed the ranks among the coalition, their brutish ways often left him feeling guilty or dirty for his part in them. He was easily peer pressured as a young male, giving in to the wants and desires of those around him in an effort to fit in and not be left behind or worse, killed.
Now, after 4 years away, Kareem has had to return to his place of birth, and he must look his family and friends in the eyes while knowing that he and the males he calls his coalition are responsible for their pain and suffering. He knows that, to them, he is the Second Male in a group of tyrants, and he must appear as a horrid creature. A traitor, with the blood of their cubs on his paws, whether or not he committed the crimes being irrelevant.
Other:
Kareem <3
Summer 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
