Torr Dowan

Description

Physical Description

"Move it along pipsqueak! Get your furry brown butt outta' my way!" A burly jock grunted as T stood sheepishly in between the benches of the cafeteria. His furry tail dropped another few inches as he tried his best to make room for the other 'dragon to pass. Pushing his small frame between the seated figures around him, he was thrown more than a few dirty looks as diner and dinner came together too fast - in the wrong places. Just managing to make enough space for the bulky youth to cross, he accidentally shoved his right fore-paw into the bowl of a large, well-muscled 'dragon. In seconds, he was getting intimate with the linoleum. "Oh craa-blrpbpfftthh" - not much made it out of his wolf like muzzle before he hit the floor, still cursing about the tomato Purée on his paw. 

Long eyelashes flashed as T came back to consciousness. Shaking his chocolaty head, he trying to focus his black eyes on the large expanse of grey around him. Blinking away the forgetfulness, he realized from the way his tail was hanging in front of his face that he was in fact looking at the floor. Its tip spluttered and the flame on it died down - as low as it possibly could go - a physical manifestation of feelings he seldom expressed; the faint glow lit up the dingy room around him, throwing shadows of his figure on the brooms and buckets.

The battered pendragon disentangled himself from the exposed roofing, dropping to the ground and landing lightly on his paws while trying to avoid disturbing the surrounding mess. Carefully, T checked to make sure nothing was broken, stretching each slender limb, twisting and turning them one by one in the anticipation of pain. Being rather small he tended to get pushed around often, and his clumsiness wasn't much help at keeping him out of trouble either. Fingers - one, two, three, four, five, check. Both hands? Check. When he touched his snout he grimaced in pain, hoping that it wasn't broken; it did look a bit off center though, maybe he'd swing by the medical ward - which he frequented. Opening the door of the broom cupboard, he checked if the coast was clear; he should've learnt his lesson the last time he tried eating at the cafeteria that catered to the college's athletes and gym-goers - but no, some people would never learn. As he stepped out into the hall way the smell of tomato called his attention to his paw - the brown and white fur was stained red. 

At 5'6'', T isn't always the smallest or scrawniest guy around - yet he tends to find himself in trouble all the time; there's just a look about him that makes people feel like picking on him.

Brown and brown, with a few streaks of white fur across his chest and on the front and back his paws, Torr at first glance isn't much of a sight. Second and third glances would yield much the same results. His unkempt, rough hair is of medium length all over his body but from his head it takes on a softer, smoother texture and flows backwards in a small mane. He has no noticeable markings on his body - no tattoos, no major scars - although has does have many smaller ones which are not visible under his fur. His soft, furry tail tapers towards the tip, and the flame at the end can burn with every color of the visible spectrum, changing depending on his mood. T's face tends to have a fixed expression of someone who is lost, and his dark, watery eyes seem to always look away into another world. His brown ears tipped in white poke through his mane; at each elbow he also has small tufts of white hair.

Personality

T is not a pushover. He is not a nerd. He says so, he knows so. This does not prevent him from being almost ceremoniously kicked around by larger 'dragons at the university who seem to think that he is though. Shy and especially averse to large groups, he never really seems comfortable with his surroundings. He tends to feel at peace when in the presence of close friends, but even then he tends to fell disturbed - as if contentment itself breeds discontentment. Though not rude, he is quite lost when it comes to interacting with strangers - seeming preoccupied and distant; but when he warms up to someone he can really come alive, drawing from a seemingly infinite source of wit.

People who know him well enough to see this side of him find it hard to believe that he can seem aloof and reserved to others. Caring (well, most of the time) and concerned, he can really go out of his way to help a friend in trouble - as long as his laziness doesn't over-weigh his enthusiasm. He has well defined ideas of what is right and wrong, and it is very rare that he ever crosses the lines of his unwritten 'moral code'.