Picture/Description: A fluffy bipedal beast, about the size of a wallaby but a lot heavier. His thick, poofy fur is ideal in cold climates, and covers everywhere except his stubby pink snout. A few ridges of scales, made from the same material as his horns, extend across his body, including as a sort of malleable brow above each of his big, dark eyes. A thick tail helps keep balance while walking on his hind legs, which like his forelegs have small, hard hooves.

Name: Evgeny

Race: – Stagaroo (Baby)

Gender: Male

Personality: In many ways Evgeny still acts like the old man he was. He can be stubborn and preachy at time, as well as rather honest and critical, but he is the way he is from a lifetime of being set in his ways and acts out of an earnest desire to help people. He is neither curmudgeonly nor grumpy, though it may seem so at first, instead wanting the best for people and believing they deserve honesty and straightforwardness rather than coddling or misdirection. Not very adventurous, he prefers comfort and routine, tries to be dignified, and can be slow to get going. That said, this new existence offers a world of opportunity, and in his mind spending his reinvention to try being just the way he was before would be a crying shame.

History: From his earliest years to his dying days, Evgeny was a man of modest dreams. A quiet but welcomed presence throughout a childhood spent in his Russian hometown, he maintained the kind of self-contained but conscientious demeanor that made him a dependable son, brother, and friend. He never yearned for the opportunity of higher education, nor to travel, nor to work anywhere but as a grocer in his father's store. He kept the home neat after his parents' early passing, always glad to entertain guests and offer them what hospitality he could. Evgeny married a woman who liked the idea of a quiet, simple life, and together they grew old without ever seeing a prairie sunset, feeling the heat of a desert, or the rain of a tropical forest. Their children, who longed to see and experience the world, moved out in their early twenties, after which Evgeny only ever reached them through letters. One late October morning his wife never awakened from the embrace of her dreams. A month later so too did Evgeny breath his last, alone in his bed, weary but satisfied, and ready to move on.

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