Name: Trois
Alias: The Drag Stag; T
Pictogram: A fence? Three loops? God knows...
Age: 20
Personality: Good-natured, romantic, spineless, pacifistic.

Love: Loofa
Offspring: Jingle
Friends: He's since distanced himself from most everyone.
Enemies: A silly word when talking about Trois.

Set: See Photos
Body: Brittle, fragile bones, thin, gangly legs and an equally thin face.
Eyes: Wide, flocked by pale, shimmering lashes. A deep, ocean blue.
Fur: Sleek and smooth, falling in clean-cut edges rather than jagged.
Antlers: Seem to almost be coated liberally in gold and silver glitter, playing host to purple flowers.
Mask: Magpie, with delicate gold markings etched around the eyes, beak.



What I was I am no longer. The Gods have roused me from my slumber to put on new clothes. Their taste is odd, but I find it wise not to complain. What I have found is...disappointing, at most. I see no one I recognize. New faces, new personalities, new names.

Unnerving at best, troublesome at worst.

I have antlers. Great, curving things that put weight on my head, dragging my lips down into a frown due to the effort of holding them up all day. Is this what everyone else has to go through?

Oh, it gets so lonely when no one knows you here. The Forest is beautiful, but only so much beauty can ward off the longing for a familiar face.

Anyone? Someone...?



Trivia___
Trois is still a drag queen, but branching out to a more elegant side of things rather than campy.
If Trois knew you in the past, it may take a bit of memory jogging before he recognizes you.
He's essentially been in a waking coma for the entire time. There, and yet not there. Only the Gods know why.
He's found his shifting temper to have all but dissipated. Nothing phases him except the mention of a friend in trouble.
Forcing myself back into the Forest! |D Sexy hyooman form to come. :U