Titus

In his younger years, Titus had been a fighter.

Being a gladiator wasn’t his preferred choice of living, but after his rite he found it hard to be accepted by most tribes in the area, even with the fact that he was an Apex. Toskals looked at him and were scared by his menacing visage, shying away or hiding their pups as he passed by. He figured then if he wasn’t going to be accepted outright, he was going to have to earn his place in the world.

So he fought his way into a tribe.

However, fighting did not make him happy. It satisfied him in his adolescence, but as he grew older he began to question if this was all that his life would amount to. The more he fought, the more he found himself becoming tired of it, and some days he would find it difficult to even brandish a weapon.

So he eventually left. He didn’t even say a word to his fellow fighters, nor any of the other tribe members.

It was almost like being on a second rite when he left the largest sun worshipping tribe in the region. Traversing across the planes was lonesome and unforgiving, thankfully his background made him strong enough to handle the dangers nature had to throw at him.