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His cublife was rather relaxed. His mother, or so she called herself, took care of him well, and the pack she led accepted his silly antics and boastful ways well. He displayed the traditional electric, oceanic colors on his pelt.
The pack dismantled, and Taje slipped out of public eye as he grew out of puppyhood. A winter fell, and through a series of events, with it his coat turned green and his paws became misshapen, bearing the toe arrangement strangely similar to that of the extinct Deinonychus genus of dinosaurs.
Taje reappeared, envigoured with adulthood. He started his own pack, which began to swell. An old friend from his mother's pack came to accompany him.
Taje's pack, too, collapsed. He retreated from packlife, spending his time away from society pondering and finding within himself his true fancies, art and exploration.
He stumbled upon a few others, sharing with them his admirations. None of the friendships held, but Taje recognized his need for companionship, and decided to hold back on his nomadic ways.
And here, today, the Taje you see. Victim to his imaginary muse, and to the subdued insanity of being an artist. An innocent, calm character. Voltaje.
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