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The jackal-headed Anubi are a brooking people with a doomful disposition. From below black-furred brow ridges, sulfurous yellow eyes gaze forlornly upon the world. In those sad eyes of the Anubi, the world - no matter how bright or beautiful the moment - teeters on the brink of unavoidable collapse. This perception infects their every thought and action. A joyous moment is a rare one for an Anubi. Despite their resignation to an unavoidable and bleak fate, the Anubi do not go to their end calmly and without a struggle. Instead, they strive with a tenacity born of the knowledge that life rarely lasts long, often ends painfully, and ceaseless exertion is required if one is to continue living.
An Anubi only finds humor in the most bitterly ironic situations, and his laugh is a harsh, mirthless barking. At that most bitterly ironic moment, his own death, his laugh is harshest. He is rarely disappointed since his cynical mind expects even the most grievous of wrongs. When striving against a hated enemy, his hackles rise baring yellowed fangs, and threatening growls escape from his throat. When he loves, whether be it a person, a place or an ideal, he considers his love with a sadness of untold depths - for he knows that soon it must end.
The bodies of the Anubi are gaunt and leanly muscled; their skin is jet-black and as dark as the deepest shadow. Often, their bodies are tattooed and their clothing decorated with warding sigils and protective signs. The Anubi are a superstitious race, prone to seeing omens and portents in the most mundane of happenings. They believe that the outcome of any action is fated, and can be foretold by what happens around them: a flock of vultures circling overhead and croaking hungrily; or a cluster of dark clouds scudding across the sky and obscuring the Sun's light.
Despite all portents of an ill fate, an Anubi will not be dissuaded from his intent. If what he intends is important and necessary, instead of trying to change his fate, he still pursues his goal. Certain that he is already doomed, he strives all the more fiercely. He knows that the hours of his life are few, and so acts heedless of any danger. Knowing that he is already doomed, he throws himself into peril with reckless abandon. He knows that at the end of the day, he will b dead; and it is far better to die with the blood of his enemies dripping from his fangs and salty on his tongue, then to go to his death meekly and without a struggle.
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