Kithuun Magaska -Slithering Poison-

Nature: Adamant

Characteristic: Highly Persistent

Personality: Kithuun is very strong in his opinions and decisions. Once his mind is set, it’s hard to change it. This being said, he will work however he can to find out what he wants. Often, he’ll get his nose in people’s business, not truly realizing the personal space that should be respected. It’s merely because he would like to keep up with everyone, considering his job and past. ...If he feels another has purposely wronged him, he will hold a grudge for a long time. More like just being brash towards said person for a long time, at least until he feels the grudge should be lifted. In a way, he can be vindictive, but not so much as to put a fellow tribe member into harms way. 

Hobbies: Roaming Lunar grounds

Weaknesses/Fears: Spies, Gin, abandonment/betrayal, psychic's grasp

Weapon: Would rather use his fists, tail, fangs, and poison as weapons

History/Bio: Kithuun was born to two Origin tribe members. A Seviper father that hunted and an Arbok mother that crafted and prepared foods. His parents were very quiet about their lives and personal matters. To each other and to their son. No matter how many times he would question their beings, they refused to answer. Often avoiding it by distracting him with something to stimulate his mind or hands. It seems the young Ekans required this attention a lot more than a typical child. Not that his parents entirely minded other than the annoyance of having to ward him off of their business. They did want to have a smart boy after all. It just seems he was born curious.

Around his early teenage years, his parents began to become more and more distant towards their home life. It was rare the father was home before nightfall. Leaving Kithuun and his mother to having little to eat until his arrival. She didn't seem to mind other than the lack of food in their home. That seemed to be the only thing that upset her. Kithuun kind of wished he knew what was going on, but by now, he knew better than to ask such things. Deciding it'd be best to keep quiet, he simply occupies his mind as he used to as a smaller child. Though, the seldom times his father was spending time with him, he began to teach him how to fight and hunt. Since it didn't happen much, the young Ekans held every lesson, every word, close to his heart. And his father was rather skilled and busy after all. He wouldn't want his time to be for naught.

A night in Kithuun's later teen years, around the age of 16, there was an invasion of their home. Guards. Warriors. All these strong people dressed in the finest of armor they had. Kithuun was sleeping when they barged in, but the noise quickly awoke him, and he rushed to see what was happening. Knowing that if he were alone with his mother, he’d have to protect her. When he arrived, it was plain to see it was their own tribe members that intruded their home in such a manner. He was at a loss. He couldn't just...attack them or demand them to leave. The men were there to talk to his father, but even so, the visit was clearly not a pleasant one. They began to drag him away. Kithuun and his mother both protested and followed them. Things escalated and became violent. His father trying to fight them with his dagger while his mother had a large butchering knife. Kithuun decided to stay out of the battle as he was still training to be strong like his father and wouldn't be much help anyhow. He was still in much shock to have his home be...attacked like this. In the end though, the couple was outnumbered and killed. Kithuun stared up at the group. “Why...?” was the only thing he could mutter. There was mumbling about his father being a traitorous spy. One thing was clear to him though...they didn't want him there. They gave him the choice of leaving, so he ran. Not even bothering to grab anything on his way out. Fleeing through the hunting grounds that he was already familiar with.

Over his years of living his refugee-esque life, his survival skills naturally became better. Learning to gather his own food and make it. Learning to prepare his food from curiously watching his mother at a young age. It was a rough life for the young adult, but he silently managed. His mind wandered off about his parents...who could he trust after that? It was hard to think he could be so deceived, and by his own family. A small hatred grew in his heart. Hatred for people that could lie to him. The man took it as far as to kill someone that crossed him the wrong way. Poisoning them with his tail and letting them slowly wither away. It did affect him though, enough to make him want to stop this. Stop and find a better way to cope with his hardships. He began to...stalk people. Mainly the hunters of Origin. Keeping them on their toes all the while. But in time, they grew tired of his games and chased him off of their grounds completely. Kithuun had fled through the rocks...through the water...until he found himself at the Lunar tribe camp.

The man kept quiet, and watched these new type of people closely. Things seemed so different from his home. They were more conservative, observant, stealthy. In a way, it was actually more comfortable here for him. They seemed to understand his lifestyle more so than his own parents once did. The more comfortable he found himself, the more he began to open up to others, and the more he began to question becoming an asset to them.

Kithuun decided on and worked to become a guard. Gaining his tribal name, Slithering Poison, for his stealthiness and potent poison, while he trained. He wanted to make sure something such as before didn't happen once again. Vowing to be on top of things, knowing everyone’s next step, and preparing for the unexpected.


Over the past year, Slithering had been hiding out from the world. After losing many tribesmen he was close to, he couldn't help but blame himself. He pushed away the world again and followed the tribe in the shadows. Being extra sure to mask his scent from a certain hound that might hunt him down. It took a lot of time to himself, but he finally feels ready to head back into his tribe and face them once again.

Level Estimate: 42

Moves:
Crunch
Ice Fang
Poison Tail
Glare

Bad Habits/Specific Traits: Roaming the Lunar grounds constantly, paranoia, dragging out s's when angry/upset

-can raise neck flaps to flare out (attach from bottom back of ear down to the side of his lower neck)

-can retract tongue and fangs

-eyes are slits

PET: