burn out in the night- appearance / intro

[align=center][align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times new roman; color: black;"]Death was something, supposedly, that floated about him. He had been told a number of times that he smelled like it, his flesh, riddled with matts and blood clots, stank like terror and loomed like eternal sleep. To this, Primus had chuckled, smiling with those bone teeth and his every-staring eyes. Did he blink? No. He stepped into the desert, ignoring the burning sands upon his paw- despite it being the middle of winter. And he continued to walk. It wasn't as if some sand was going to stop him.

The jungle, however, was a contrast to the dry heat just beyond. It became wet, dragging at his skin. At this point, he decided to trade his body. Back to something a bit more original, a lot more.. fitting for these climates. Stalking and climbing mountains had been better in his other shape. However.. his body took on a bulkier stance. The bone muzzle, up to his brow, remained. His ears twitched, rounded. The mane stretched from his forehead to his back, and even on the underside of his tail. His fur was ashen, his paws white and faded from there.

He shook his mane out, growling to himself as his red eyes flashed a bit. Much better, much more.. at home. He was revealed, at last. He chuckled to himself, before letting out a loud grunt to announce his presence. He refused to sit until he was attended to.

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