Weight: 90 lb (greatly underweight)
Species: Faun/Natural Spirit
Personality: Stag is often very happy and childlike, taking pleasure in working on his hobbies. Floral crown weaving being one of them. Despite his often cheerful demeanor, his past has left him with a rather cracked sanity, leaving him with some mental instability. He can also be quite bipolar depending on the situation at hand. Stag suffers from nightmares, nose bleeds, and Syncope (repeated fainting or unconsciousness), or even temporary comas, which further contributes to his weight loss.
Appearance:He has 10 point antlers and downward curved ears. He has a 6" tail, brown on top and white on bottom. His forehead, top of his nose, cheeks, shoulders, back of his arms, back, and most of his legs are dark brown in fur like his hair. Around his eyes is black like eyeliner, his nose is black and so are his lips, a line connection from his nose and upper lip, his fingernails are black, and he had a dark stripe from his neck, all the way down to the base of his tail. He has white spots on his shoulders, thighs, back and cheeks. His neck, chest, abdomen, inner thighs, and a heart shape on his rear is white. He's very lean and charming looking.
Human form: Stag has toffee caramel colored skin with pure white freckles dotting his body, black lips and nails and a solid black outline around his eyes like eyeliner. Across his chest are three scars. He stands just a little shorter than his faun form at 5’8”, wearing the only human clothes he has or his casual everyday grass skirt and floral crown. His human clothes consisting of a green bow in his hair, a suit, dress shirt, tie, dress shoes, and socks. His powers are still in effect during this form.
Likes: Nature, flowers, stars, the water.
Dislikes: Conflict, fire, blood, the dark.
Abilities: Plant manipulation, fertility inducement, animal telepathy, nature spirit physiology, vine generation, season inducement, nature lordship, natural transportation, spark healing, natural cloning, spirit swapping.
History: Stag was born on the planet Utopia, a world beyond all existence far from the reaches of space and time. Abandoned at birth as a guardian and raised up by his adoptive mother Kikyo, whom was the eldest of the guardians at the time besides the Faun King. He was a runt, small and fragile. However, he was, and still is, the kindest of his people. In the prairie the ten guardians resided in was their sanctuary, the Forever Forest that surrounded them it was forbidden to step a single hoof beyond the treeline. The territory was not theirs to rule, but they kept the planet alive, risking death to keep it going and keeping the countless planets the forest visited alive as well. With silence from the others spreading throughout the land, the trees began to wilt, the power seeping from their bodies as they were the last to stand.
One night, on the day Kikyo was down after the birth of her son, Stag and the others did their rounds along the treeline. Letting few elderly Satyrs and some young kids pass through under close supervision, as the day began to fade they set in for bed. However, turned to the darkness of the woods. Fixed on the tune that echoed deep beyond their prying eyes, ears perked as they slowly, one by one, were entranced and lured into the forest. They had never heard music before, only the elders of years since passed had ever been graced with the Satyr's enchanting muse. Stag was different. He followed his friends, the tune held no hold on him. His care was for them, an so he took chase.
But... Where were they..? Where had their scents gone to? Replaced with the sickly sweet stench of blood filling the air, panic setting in. The faun ran, bounding away in fear, his fragile little legs beating to the ground, hooves like thunder. Those frantic eyes darting around for any sight of his friends, the sound of a swish filling the air above his head. The more he ran... The more the forest looked so odd... And... What was this white stuff..?
Stag soon stood alone in the snow.. The whipping of his read cloak snapping in the bitter cold wind, his right antler cut clean from his head, blood dripping to the white ground. His breath coming out in puffs of steam, dark eyes staring up to the moon that crested overhead... Tears rolling down his cheeks as he gritted his teeth. This was not Utopia.
Not his home...
He was afraid...