Post by Kunto on Jul 14, 2009 0:42:34 GMT -5
Name: Kunto (koon-toh)
Meaning: Third-born
Lineage: Thema x Udo: Adwoa, Kunto, Koyin, Nyarai, Zuberi
Species: Spotted Hyena
Gender: Male
Age: Adult
Personality/Traits:
First is the worst, second is the best, third is… well, the third is one lazy son of a bitch. He is the closest Uchawi has to an omega and doesn’t seem outwardly interested in pushing up farther in the pecking order. When he isn’t off sleeping the day away, Kunto is playing the fool. Laughing at stupid things, making jokes in poor taste, but it all has a purpose. He wouldn’t have survived this long if he was really just a laughing idiot.
Kunto watches, always, listens intently to every word spoken. He finds the weakest links and viciously attacks them, whether with words or with his own teeth. Kunto won’t challenge anything bigger than him, no, but smaller things, old things, the weak and defenseless, that’s his prey of choice; even if that reeks of cowardice. Plans or ideas he dislikes, he will laughingly poke holes in, mock, and take the beatings it earns him in stride. Or goad others on into danger, while skulking along behind them like a nasty little minion.
Let the others strut boldly about and make wild declarations. He’s happy back here in the shadows, where he gets a fantastic view of all the action.
History:
Third-born and… small, it was surprising that Kunto even survived his siblings and the other dangers of growing up to reach adulthood. Thema and Udo assumed the little pup would die, which gave Kunto the freedom to do as he wanted. Life was easier when everyone forgot you were there.
Perhaps the clan should have been pleased by his survival. It showed he had enough wits about him, that he might actually be capable, but no. Kunto was lazy and rude, always laughing at his siblings and his elders, though, strangely enough, never at his parents. The only major thing of note he has done so far in life, besides not having the good grace to simply lay down and die, was to have a ‘paw’ in the disappearance his brother while they were only juveniles. One day Kunto and Koyin ran off to play… and only smug little Kunto came trotting back home. The story that he stuck to was that a damn dirty lion got his unfortunate brother.
The death of his sire brought on a brief bout of depression and a moment of respite from the cackling young hyena for the clan. The ousting of his mother from dominance was taken better. Politics were politics, after all. But when the sudden change of dominant males came, Kunto has become more wary of his japes and capering. While his brother Adwoa has little power in the clan in all technical terms, Kunto has not been on trustworthy terms with his littermates since Koyin’s not-really-quite-so mysterious death, and his last surviving brother now has Dumisani’s ear.
Description:
Kunto is undersized and underweight, a poor example of a hyena. His dull yellow-brown coat is dirty and matted from lazy neglect. A thin, poofy mane of the unkempt fur sticks up from the back of his head and along his neck, narrowing back into his regular fur length at the shoulders. The fur’s color is darkest along the top of his back and lightens as it goes down his sides and legs. It darkens again around the paws, though not as dark as the dull claws that curve out from his toes. Spots a few shades darker than his overall fur are spattered across his scrawny body in varying sizes.
His ears are battered, fly-bitten, and torn, scabbed along the delicate edges. Black markings are thinly brushed around and up his muzzle, fading out as they reach up to encircle dark brown eyes. Whiskers sprout out around his big black nose and from his chin, framing teeth that, almost absurdly, are still very white.
Post Sample
Kunto knows. He knows how to be a vulture. He circles around the kill, slowly, warily, the tall savannah grasses parting around his ragged body. Ever inward is the path he forges for himself. At the end of every circuit, he stops to look at the zebra, dead and quarreled over by his bigger, stronger clanmates. Those ones can afford to push and shove now that Dumisani has taken her share, but not him.
Time to test the waters. He creeps out of the grasses, head lowered down past his shoulders, nose almost to the ground. About halfway there, he lies down on the ground. Flump. Closer now, he can still see how much of the kill is left. Too much for the others to yet be finished with it, he decides. The scruffy hyena pops back up to his paws and begins to circle anew.
Around, around. It might gain suspicious looks. A growl or two, perhaps. Whenever he might be questioned about just what he is up to, Kunto smiles, tongue lolling out over his teeth. “I’m a vulture,” he claims jokingly, “Aren’t you jealous? I can fly.”
Heard About Mnara: I was beaten over the head and dragged h—I mean I got a note on dA inviting me here.
