Elm

No Man's Land is nestled in a hidden bubble just between the lines of fairytales and bed time stories. A mad queen rules all. Filled with half-formed ideas of fantasy beings you call locals. Can be human or magical in appearance. Hearts are stolen and sold for spare change.

The world is dying to put it simply. Children believing and creativity runs the once whimsy plane of existence. Now crime runs afoul from the capital to tiny towns. Lives barely clinging on. Smog gets in the way. Corruption runs amok and the strong decimate the weak.

A footnote of shoulda coulda woulda is Elm. Left to collect dust, a blotted out creature who never made it to the highlights of the Brothers Grimm folktales. Brother to the Big Bad Wolf. Elm is the softspoken, reclusive counterpart.

Inky blotches make up Elm. Shadows and smoke give way to his anthro wolf appearance. Polymorphic, vapors shift to change into any form he pleases. Black fur all over. Shaggy, rustled is the state of his fur. He wears a simple button up shirt with rolled up sleeves and black slacks. Narrow grey eyes. Sharp claws at the end of his humanlike hands, pointed ears at the top of his head. Long muzzle. Tall but more on the lanky side. More watch from the side lines than a powerhouse. Fuzzy scratchy mess of a tail. Smaller then what it was due to the end part being cut off. Elm's tail tapes into a stump. Twitchy thing, mind of its own most days.

Elm kissing style is clumsy and awkward. Knocking teeth is not uncommon and with a snout its hard, much prefers licking. Likes to groom others hair and face this way. Considers it calming. Packs canine genitalia, duh. Knot will form at the base and swell when orgasm is reached. Knot can last upwards to 30 minutes. Is capable of having sex via his tendrils he can make freely.

For centuries now Elm has been living in a cottage where he was banished to just on the edge of a small town called Waning Hollow. Was once a fearsome beast, killing and devouring. His favorite: hearts. Seconds please. No leftovers for Elm. Having his glass heart returned to him, brought back Elm's humanity. Tempered the entity within.

Your heart, the thing that ba-dum ba-dum in your chest. The organ of love, but for No Man's Land was a commodity. Tasty, yummy. Scrumpdillyicious. A delicacy once upon a time. Before the queen went mad, she turned their hearts into glass. Little heart shaped trinkets they can store inside themselves or for storage. Glass is harder to bite down on than muscle. Bleh, taste is lost now.

If your heart is stolen or eaten, you can tip the scales from feral madman to a catatonic state. Crushed up glass hearts power the world when low on the primary sources. Low fantasy setting, amenities exist within reason. Shattered hearts can be put back together, but if shards are missing. Then it erodes you, memories skip or flicker away if your heart isn't whole.

• Clutter bug, disastrous organizing skills. Elm will get two for every one he throws away.
• The palate of a herbivore. Elm has strong morals against eating meat or harming life for food.
• A healer, practices using medicinal plants and herbs for helping others. Naturally gifted with it.
• Considered the town's only doctor.
• Elm is a bookbinder and makes his own grimoires filled with recipes for potions, medical guides, plant documentation. Of course once he makes them, he just tosses them about.
• Complicated relationship with his older brother. They don't speak. Elm hates the pack mentality the Big Bad Wolf tries to enforce.
• Anxious of the dark, bathes in the sunlight.
• Finds time in his day sunbathing.
• Half mortal, half magic.
• His relationship with his brother is strained, clashes are common. They can't help but butt heads.
• Usually his body is solid, but it turns misty when he is frazzled. Nerves grate on him.

Speech: Gracious, eloquent, a lot of patience when tensions are high. Turns clinical when on the job. Won't swear EVER, fills in with the PG equivalent when in pain or the situation calls for it.