Player Name:	Ruth	Snapjaw: Winner of the GWA '01 "Most Dramatic" Honorable Mention
Player E-mail:	Email Ruth
Character Name:	Snapjaw
Gender:	Male
Age:	Estimated 2,900 years
Soulname:	Gunnar
Origin:	Native
Family:	Parents, dead. Siblings, dead. Recognized twice when he was young, had some children, Bravedream, Leafcharm, Fastwolf, and Ivoryfire, but they're dead, and so are his lifemates. Almost everyone he knew and loved is dead. Has some great-great-grandchildren running around. Raising an orphaned great-great-great-grandchild, Dizzy.
Soul Siblings:	None
Lovemates/ Lifemates:	Foxwit, a young huntress killed by humans during the war with the humans; and Greenway, a treeshaper, Recognized after the war
Recognized Mate:	Currently None
Magic:	None
Skills:	Traps, Carving, Hunting
Weapons:	Long Knife, Crossbow
Personality:	He's a gruff, cranky, smart old wolf. Snapjaw has seen it all and done it all. He's a survivor. He's old and cranky and a bit of a crackpot. Snappish and brooding and hermit-esque. He is very much the lonewolf, often feels disconnected from the much younger generation he's now living with. Knows way too much, understands life and elven nature a little too well. Very little surprises him. When in a good mood, he can make the weirdest, most off the wall observations; he has a quick, sarcastic, biting wit. A tough, demanding teacher. He has mood swings, often suffers from depression. When deeply depressed, he will self-medicate with wine and questionable herbs. Set in his ways, hates interruptions, a traditionalist who follows 'The Way,'but he has a hard time living in the 'Now'of wolf thought because he does dwell on the past. Keeps his own counsel, rarely has much to say, if you want his advice, you'll have to pry it out of him. Meditates often, usually in the morning (twilight)--or when he's carving. Very, very nocturnal. Likes to meditate in the morning (late-afternoon and twilight) and then work on his carvings, and pity the fool who interrupts -- you better be bleeding or on fire if you barge in. Snapjaw carves elaborate boxes/trunks, staffs, bows for those who prefer a hand-carved bow instead of a shaped one, and toys and domestic utensils. Makes toys for the Holt's children.
Likes:	To be left alone; his meditations and carving; peace and quiet; when he's in his better moods, scaring the cubs (he has a reputation to maintain)
Dislikes:	Interruptions; distractions; disorganization; loud or clingy people, flirts, idiots, young adults... Humans
Fears:	Living forever, that life will never change, that in the end, he's always alone; the uncertainty of death, not knowing what comes next.
Appearance:	He's a piece of old, tough rawhide. Tall and lanky, sinewy muscle tone. 4'3".
Marks/Scars:	Calloused, scarred hands from all his carving and whittling. Has no problem going to a healer, but doesn't bother with just any old nick or cut. On his left forearm, Snapjaw has two long scars across his wrist, above two rows of smaller, very even, old black scars. He doesn't hide them, but he doesn't show them off. When asked about them, Snapjaw only says, quite cryptically, "I cut myself."
Hair:	Dark brown, with some streaks of gray and white: salt and pepper; can be attributed to his wolfblood. Thick and straight. Usually ungroomed, tangled, with a braid or two and some dreadlocks.
Eyes:	Slanted; dark, muddy green
New Green Clothes:	Practically anything available. Style doesn't occur to him, just comfort. Patched breeches, shirt with long sleeves, belt, and calf-high boots. Wears an overshirt/parka with hood when away from the Holt. Colors tend to be earthy, whatever color the hide happened to be, and styles are always utilitarian rather than decorative.
White Cold Clothes:	With gloves, furred boots, scarf and whatever else is needed to stay warm.
Jewelry:	None
History:	Snapjaw is as old as dirt. 2,900+ years old. He has done a bit of everything over his long life, a jack of all trades. Current interests are hunting, carving, wine brewing and happy weed, and keeping Dizzy from torching the forest. Recently adopted Dizzy, a great-great-great-grandchild of his who was orphaned. Lately, Snapjaw has been seeing ghosts/spirits of dead elves. He's not sure what to make of it, so he keeps it to himself. He figures maybe he's close to death himself and is seeing through the thin veil between life and death. If not that, the only option is that he's going stark raving mad, and that possibility troubles him.
Bond Beast:	Timber, Wolf, Age Unknown Gender: Male A large timberwolf, a mix of dirty cream, black, and brown. More amicable than his rider. Timber is getting old, and he spends a lot of time around the Holt sleeping. Also spends a lot of time cubsitting Dizzy.