T-Bone

Background:

T-Bone is the first among a generation of guideless young wolves in the city. T-Bone is an angry young man with a caged animal beating beneath his chest. His story isn't unique among the wolves of Philly, hell he's endemic of the so-called "wolf problem" in the city. The only thing he knows about his father is hunters killed him and having werewolf blood hasn't ever done him any good. So what the fuck's the point?

Whether he wants it or not, T-Bone serves as the de facto leader of the werewolves throughout the 'hoods of North Philly; his example of aimless lashing out has taken hold. Younger wolves look to him like he's got something to say. He doesn't. If they want some advice, it's simple: Trust yourself and no one else. He and the roughshod pack that formed around him have little to no information regarding their condition or the part they're meant to play as werewolves. It wouldn't occur to them to patrol the borders of the spirit world; they don't even know what that means. Many of them have been confronted by spirits (first change, etc.) but they have no words or basis of comparison for those experiences, so they mostly don't talk about them.

T-Bone recently learned he had a three-year-old son. It dawns on him he should be a better man of that son is going to grow up to be anything more than a scourge to the neighborhood like the packs have been. He's not without a tender side; he's well aware most of the boys and girls coming to him don't have daddies or mommies to tell them what's going on anymore than he did. While he doesn't see himself as any more fir to be that figure, he seems long out of choices and has seen what doing nothing and shitting where he eats has done. T-Bone is at a crossroads, but without anyone to guide him he honestly doesn't know which way he'll turn.

Appearance:

T-Bone is a glowering young wolf who wears a perpetual expression like he smells something he doesn't like. He's tall, broad and powerful with a shaved head and dark black skin. It is small wonder the younger set looks up to him, even when he stands still he projects an image of strength like some form of God given flesh. He wears clothes loose to facilitate his Changes, often cut and ripped from same. As a wolf he is just as dark if not more-so, with fur that glints like tiny blades of polished ebon. He's missing patches of fur from his side and belly from old gunshot wounds.