Max

The werewolf bites the finger of the future master if he sincerely agrees and licks the blood. A mark appears on the tongue. This mark is visible and signifies a special bond and that the familiar is busy.

still not tamed

Basic facial features and expressions
Face and Skin: A refined, aristocratic face with a sharp, well-defined jaw and a pale, almost marbled skin tone.
Eyes and gaze: Dark, narrow eyes under thick brows. The gaze is half-closed, tired, slightly arrogant or indifferent. Light shadows are noticeable under the eyes.
Lips and fangs: The lips are thin, slightly parted, with clearly defined sharp fangs visible from under the upper lip (vampire or werewolf trait).
Hairstyle and ears
Hair: Thick, tousled, medium-length black hair with jagged bangs that partially cover the forehead and eyebrows.
Animal Ears: Large cat/wolf-like black ears with light fluff inside are visible on the head, combined with the normal human-shaped ears on the sides.
Clothing and general style
Clothing: Dressed in dark clothing with a high collar (similar to a turtleneck or protective suit) and a dark cloak or cape thrown over it.
Colour scheme: The portrait is painted in monochrome, dark tones (grey, black, pale shades), which creates a mysterious, gloomy and gothic atmosphere.

Once Max acknowledged a person as his master, he changed beyond recognition. His rage didn't disappear—it merely shifted direction. Everything he'd previously directed against those around him was now ready to lash out at anyone who dared harm the one he'd claimed as his own. He remained strong, stubborn, and willful, never becoming a submissive servant, but he no longer saw the point in fighting the one to whom he'd entrusted his loyalty.

Max was incredibly loyal. For him, his master was the only being whose safety was more important than his own. He would shield him without hesitation, engage an opponent superior in strength, and fight to his last breath if it meant saving even a few seconds. He was always nearby, discreetly observing every movement of those around him and the first to spot any threat.

Despite his stern nature, a completely different side of him emerged when he was around his master. He became calmer, allowed himself to be touched, and would silently rest his head on his lap or lie at his feet, remaining alert. He disliked displaying affection through words, preferring to demonstrate it through actions: silently fetching prey, accompanying him on all his travels, guarding his sleep, and always being there when needed.

However, even after being tamed, Max didn't become harmless. He treated strangers coldly and suspiciously, rarely allowing anyone to approach his master without his approval. The moment he sensed a threat, his gaze instantly became as predatory as before. The only difference was that now he fought not for freedom, but for someone he had once voluntarily chosen.

To those around him, Max remained a dangerous monster. But to his master, he became the most reliable protector, a faithful companion, and a creature whose devotion knew no bounds.

Max was the most unruly werewolf ever seen in these parts. Aggressive, hot-tempered, and completely untamable, he recognized no masters, no orders, no concept of submission. Throughout his life, he had many owners, yet none could ever coax even a hint of obedience from him. Any attempt to approach resulted in growls, bared teeth, and desperate attempts to grab the opponent by the throat. He lashed out at everyone without exception, whether they were strangers or the person who had fed him for months. Max was not afraid of pain—silver chains, beatings, hunger, magical seals, and spells did not break his will. On the contrary, with each new punishment, he only grew more furious. He tore at his shackles with such force that he often left deep wounds in his own body, tearing his skin against the metal, just for a chance to escape. He could not be calmed by affection, intimidated by threats, or bought by care. Whenever anyone approached, the hair on his neck would stand on end, his muscles would tense, and a low, animalistic growl would erupt from his chest, warning of an imminent attack. Even muzzled and chained, he never stopped fighting, trying to bite, claw, or break free until the very last. The shop workers approached him only in groups, armed with silver poles and restraining charms, knowing that if they let their guard down for even a moment, Max would seize it without a moment's hesitation. Many believed that there was nothing human left in him, but in truth, the reason for his rage was different—he would rather die than allow someone else to dictate his life again.