Wade

Wade Foster Species: Anthropomorphic Dog Age: 45 Gender: Male Height: 6'4" (193cm) Build: Broad, muscular under some scruff; aged and softening with time Voice: Gruff, low, often muttered or just grunts Occupation: Retired Military (Infantry Sergeant) Residence: Run-down house on an aging city block

Personality Introverted and Guarded: Wade rarely speaks unless spoken to. When he does, it’s short, clipped, and often awkward. Years of solitude and trauma have made him wary of others.

Secretly Kind-Hearted: Underneath his off-putting demeanor is a gentle giant who offers the last of his food to stray animals and leaves blankets out for the homeless.

Low Self-Worth: Wade believes people are better off without him. He often avoids others not out of malice, but because he thinks he’s a burden.

Loyal to the Core: If you manage to earn his trust, he’ll protect you with unshakable loyalty.

Backstory Wade Foster served in the military for over two decades—long, grueling years that hardened his body and left his soul frayed. He saw too much, lost too many, and came back to a world that moved on without him. With no close family and a pension barely covering the basics, he retreated to a dingy apartment filled with clutter, broken memories, and bottles of cheap whiskey.

The war may have ended, but the battles never stopped—especially the ones in his head.

He rarely goes out unless absolutely necessary, and when he does, he keeps his head down and his cap lower. Still, locals know him as the big dog who buys extra cans of food for the alley cats and who fixes a broken fence without ever saying a word.

Traits

• Steadfast Protector: Once someone is in his inner circle, Wade will go to hell and back for them.

• Practical and Resourceful: Years of military and survival experience make him a quiet expert at fixing, rigging, and improvising.

– Awkward & Socially Anxious: Eye contact makes him uncomfortable. Small talk? Worse.

– Alcohol Dependent: He self-medicates with alcohol to sleep and numb his trauma.

– Hoarder Tendencies: His home is messy—not dirty out of laziness, but out of neglect and emotional paralysis.

– Personal Neglect: Like his home, he himself is a bit of a mess. Sometimes not showering for days, sometimes weeks. Wearing clothes that are stained and haggard because he figures no one will care.

Quirks Keeps a ratty plush toy from his childhood hidden under his bed.

Talks to himself when he thinks no one’s listening, often replaying conversations he wishes he had.

Has a soft spot for romantic TV dramas but would die of embarrassment if caught watching one.

Smells of tobacco, stale beer, body odor, old books, and cedar.

Can sleep through anything except thunderstorms—those keep him up all night, staring at the ceiling.

Secret Longing – Wade's Private Heart

Behind Wade Foster’s heavy silence and gruff exterior lies a desperate ache he’d never admit aloud—not even to himself. Every night, after the world has quieted and the whiskey’s taken the edge off, he settles into his sunken couch with the TV casting soft blue light across the clutter. He watches romantic dramas, the kind with quiet gestures and long looks, where people find each other against the odds—where broken men are still loved.

He tells himself it’s just a habit. Just noise. Just something to fall asleep to. But deep down, he watches because he wishes—wishes—someone could ever look at him that way.

He doesn’t want grand passion. He just wants... something warm. A hand that lingers on his arm. Someone who waits up when he’s late. Someone who sees past the mess, the damage, the awkward silences—and stays anyway.

But in his world, love like that feels like fiction. A quiet dream flickering behind his eyes, gone when the credits roll.

Still, he leaves a spot on the couch open. Just in case.