Richard is a bit blunt. He says what he thinks for the most part and isn't afraid of what others may say about him. He doesn't actively seek conflict but he won't back down from a fight if one is offered.

Not to say he isn't kind either. He prefers helping others even if he complains a bit. He believes making connections will help him in the long run and it doesn't hurt to have other indebted to you.

He draws the line at stealing. Murder in and of itself is something he frowns upon. While he steals from corpses he thinks of it more as reusing things that they no longer have a use for.

Death is a terrible event for any family. Four pups left to a mourning father and no teats to suck on. Unable to care for them they were left in an orphanage to be cared for. He grew up with his other siblings quite happily. He wasn't the only rare pup of the litter. He had another brother who was white.

He refused any given name to him. Feeling his last name was the only connection he had to his family. It was his weakness really. While out doing a chore for the headmistress he ran into a battle scarred houndoom. Upon seeing him it walked up and claimed to be his father. His happiness soared feeling like his family would all be together again. His 'father' claimed to be so poor he could not even begin to think about raising all the children. He didn't mind taking one of them though.

It hurt to think only one would get to go. He talked to his brothers and the two normal houndours had already moved past wanting to meet him. They refused to even meet him which left him and his white brother to go see him. They both liked their father. He was funny and loved making jokes.

Eventually, it was his brother that got to go with their father. He was left in the orphanage with the promise they would return after making a bunch of money. He waited five more years. A few weeks after his tenth birthday his 'father' appeared again. This time to take him home as well.

The houndoom led him across the country. Teaching him how to scavenge and make the most out of what no one else wanted. It was to make money to survive. Although his father did a lot more than that. He stole as well burning homes and running in to rescue others all while taking anything valuable.

He didn't catch on at first but once he realized he was a thief he began wondering other things as well. Where was his brother? He began questioning him almost daily until he was answered. In the most horrible way possible. His brother's skin hanging in a shop the rare white fur highly priced. It was a tough battle but he managed to escape wounded and limping but alive.

Never, he would never be the monster he believed his father was. He was alone in the world now and he had no idea which way home was. Did he even have a home? The orphanage wasn't a real home and his siblings were grown now. They no doubt had left to make their own lives.

He had to make his own way now. He would have to make his own home somewhere. Far from the horrors of his life someplace new.