Cailean describes himself as a "black Scottish cyclops", and laments that he is the only Scotswolf with black fur that he knows. He looks exactly like any average, run of the mill black Eastern Timber wolf, except he has an empty socket of fur where his right eye once was. His fur is always shaggy and ruffled, and usually doesn't bother taking care of his appearance. He will try to clean himself up when there's a she-wolf in the vicinity, although his bushy tail refuses to be tamed. Once a strong, virile warrior, Cail's addiction to drugs and fermented fruit left him with a mere echo of what his body used to be, with his ribs sticking out of his ascetic frame. His one good eye, which is yellow, is always squinting in an effort to look at something properly. Cailean's eye is usually filled in either amusement or anger, depending on what it sees.

The Pack Clown: Cailean is the resident comedian of Adega and hopes to be known someday as the funniest wolf in Doctrine. He loves to make jokes, even at his own expense. He spends most of his time formulating puns and punch lines in his head. When encountering Cailean for the first time, he's equipped with dozens of them and is not afraid to use them in an effort to "break the ice".

The Chivalrous Knight in Shining Armor: Cailean always acts extremely politely and formally around she-wolves in an effort to become likeable and find a mate. Some describe Cailean as being "whipped", as he knowingly and voluntarily submits to doing whatever the female in question wants him to do. He doesn't believe in forcebreeding, as Cailean sees this as a cruel act towards "defenseless" women as well as a sign of ultimate desperation.

The Life of the Party: Cailean enjoys having fun, especially while drunk. He doesn't like to work, and as a result some regard him as a lazy bum. Cailean fervently denies this, coming back with a reply that his liver is working overtime to reduce the amount of alcohol in his system. If he sees someone being left out, Cailean will try to include them by offering some fermented, rotten fruit to eat. When plants are running low, he uses herbs to help stave off withdrawal symptoms.

The Crazy Bastard: Cailean will sometimes "snap" when remembering a particularly painful memory. He then goes out of control and will not stop until he has tasted alcohol, shrooms, or blood. He tends to be bipolar when drunk and/or especially stoned, going from his usual cheery self to being scared shitless and pissed off.

The Cheery One: Cailean is usually cheerful and easygoing, whether sober or drunk. He also tends to be optimistic about everything, believing that it makes life a lot easier. The Scotswolf also thinks that it makes his jokes funnier, as pessimists usually aren't successful comedians.

Proud: Cailean takes great pride in his Scottish ancestry as well as his strength. He also takes great pride in his tolerance to alcohol, something which not many wolves have. If one were to insult Cailean on these manners, his teeth would sink into their throat before they can finish their sentence.

Loyal: Cailean is loyal to a fault. He will always stand up for his packmates and his friends, and fight for what he believes is right. Cailean will be one of the first on your side and one of the last to leave.

((If it's too despie-ish, I'd be more than happy to change it around.))

Pain. Rage. Anguish. All of these emotions coursed through his body as Ivan the Terrible forcefully ripped out Cailean's right eye with his teeth. Blood splattered over the pure white snow as Cailean shook his head in an effort to rid himself of the pain somehow.

"Uwaaaaaaah! Wahahahahaha! Cry some more, leetle baby!" Ivan barked with laughter, his thick Russian accent hampering his English. He gave a demonic grin to the smaller figure that was swaying to the left and right before landing on the snow with an ungainly thump.

Cailean looked at the source of the fight with a yellow eye blurred with tears. Natascha. A lovely tan she-wolf and Cailean's first mate. Besides her extraordinarily soft, beautiful fur, Natascha was also submissive, polite, and soft-spoken, although not above having some fun. Cailean had loved her at first sight.

However, he was not alone in the matter. Ivan had his eye on Natascha as well, ever since he saw the duo on a hunting trip together. He decided to fight with Cailean over her affections. Even though Cailean was able to give a nasty bite to the leg, it was clear that Ivan would win, with his bear-like size and strength, not to mention his bloodlust.

"Natascha..." Cailean mumbled pleadingly. This was his last shot. There was no way in hell he could beat him. After all, he had the nickname Ivan the Terrible for a reason.

"Do svidanya, Cailean." Natascha gave the Scottish cyclops an apologetic glance before she gravitated towards Ivan, licking off the blood that was streaming down his right hind leg. "Goodbye."

"Ach, I'll kill every single one of ye damn Russie rats, and don'tcha ferget it, lassie! I'll be back!" Cailean howled in rage, turning tail and storming off angrily down south to Mexico. On his way he found a pile of fermented guavas. Seeing as there wasn't much food available at the time, Cail ate it and became drunk for the first time. He enjoyed the feeling, as it helped him forget his pain and humiliation. Ever sice then, he has been roaming Doctrine in search of more fruit and herbs. One day, he hopes to revenge himself on Ivan the Terrible, but until then...