This shafa is neurotic, but not in a way that means he'll be exploding
 left and right. If anything, that action is a rare occurrence 
happening only under periods of extreme doubt or moments of pure shock
 and surprise. He is made nervous by only his thoughts and 
insecurities, finding only brief joy from his successes. On the list of
 his least favorite things would be shouting angry people, 
disappointing his Bonded, rooms full of strangers, and giving speeches.
 Oddly enough, failures do not cripple his esteem in the way most would
 think. He expect them and is more capable of recovering from fault and
 ill-fortune than complete victory and good tidings. He expects only
 catches in those, or for the other boot to drop as a manner of 
speaking. He doesn't believe in kind words or compliments, thinking
 only that the person is just saying those things because they feel
 they have to. Bad words and inflections go straight to his heart,
 however, and he fully takes merit in insults. That's as far as his 
mind will allow him to think and analyze, however. He does try his best
 to be there when anyone needs him, but few rarely understand when he
 needs help. He is a shafa of few words and high expectations of
 himself.

Tall, this Smoke doesn't feel right in his own fur. While this doesn't
 always show, and he isn't all 'woe is me' about it, he walks in a 
constant slouch and dislikes flying, preferring to crawl on the ground 
and generally be out of sight. His insecurity isn't all that secret,
 but he doesn't seem to be all that aware of it; he is just himself,
 faults and successes in all. His fur is a soft and steel-blue shade,
 with a darker and duller storm cloud grey gradient to his tail, belly,
 and up the back of his head. His wings, when spread, reveal a white 
underside with touches of grey within it.