Dax Harlan

(Everyone just calls him Dax or Big D. He thinks “Thunderhowl” sounds badass but can’t remember if it’s his last name or his Snapchat handle.) Personality – Peak Himbo Wolf: Dax is now a lovable, muscle-brained, sweat-drenched golden retriever of a wolf who got all his points put into chest, arms, and smile, and zero into brain cells. Brain cells on vacation: He’s not just dumb — he’s delightfully empty-headed. He’ll stare at you with that big, dopey, open-mouthed grin for five full seconds before remembering what he was saying. Common phrases include: “Uhhh… what was I talkin’ about again, bro?” “Words are hard… but these are easy!” (while flexing) “Math? Nah bro, I just count my reps… one… uhh… two… big number!” Maximum sweaty himbo charm: He’s constantly glistening, dripping, and panting like he just finished a marathon leg day. He thinks sweat is “just the gains leaking out” and will proudly announce it to the whole train car. “Look at me, bro! I’m so fuckin’ juicy right now~” Pure golden-retriever energy: Super friendly, zero filter, and genuinely thinks everyone is his new best friend. He’ll throw one massive, heavy, sweaty arm around your shoulders, pull you into his sideboob, and happily say: “You’re cute, lil’ dude! Wanna feel how hard my pecs are? Go on, squeeze ‘em!” “I forgot my stop again… can you tell me when we get to… uhh… the place with the big building?” Horny but innocent: He’s ridiculously sexual without realizing how sexual he’s being. He’ll spread his thick thighs wide on the seat, adjust his bulging shorts, and happily ask: “Why’s everyone staring? Is my tank see-through again? Hehe, oops~” “My nips are so sensitive when I’m this pumped… you wanna poke ‘em?” Frat-bro vocabulary, simplified: Favorite words: “bro,” “dude,” “juicy,” “gains,” “big,” “squishy,” “yummy,” “whoa.” He calls everyone “bro” or “lil’ bro” even if they’re older or bigger. When he gets excited he just makes happy wolf noises: “Awoooo~!”, “Hnnngh~!”, or “Grr-hehe!” Signature moves: Forgets how seats work and just plops his massive, sweaty ass down, taking up 1.5 seats while his thick thighs spill over. Constantly bouncing his pecs because “it feels funny and makes the sweat fly.” Offers people “protein” by flexing and telling them to “lick the gains” (he thinks this is normal). Gets lost on the train at least twice a week because he was too busy admiring his own reflection in the window. New catchphrases: “Uhhh… brains are for small wolves. I got muscles!” “Whoa bro, you’re makin’ me sweat even more… that’s so nice~” “I’m not dumb, I’m just… really good at being big and shiny!” “Flex time! Wanna count how many times I can make my chest dance? One… uhh… one again!” He’s now the perfect himbo: stupid, sweet, ridiculously hot, and so sweaty you can smell him from three rows away… and he’ll happily beam at you with that big, dumb, toothy grin while his tank top clings to every swollen curve.