Meet Claw: a masked and mysterious lupine hero. Claw is the opposite of a “real” werewolf– their* character design is based on a Halloween costume. Think of a high quality wolfman body suit, trimmed with real fur, with glove and boots fitted with articulated claws and instead of the howling wolf mask you might expect, a smooth and elegant art mask with glowing green or golden eyes. Then make it fully functional: eyes that see, ears that hear, and above all claws that tear and cut and grip. Claw is a powerful gymnast and/or parkour practitioner– the rest of their powers come from the suit and its claws. They are a low powered hero by comic book standards, but Claw is far from stupid and has an iron will: they can use the abilities they have with frightening effect. Their primary vulnerability is simple: the suit zips up the back, and Claw requires help getting in and out of it. Who is their helper, and can that person be trusted with Claw’s secret?
(*Yes, I am using the 50 Sketchbook Superhero series to practice my newfound commitment to the singular “they”. So many of these characters have no clearly recognizable gender, at least when they are in costume, and it has been enlightening to realize how calling one of them “they” can open my thoughts to the character being of any gender, or none. Yes, if I was writing one of them into a comic or piece of fiction and giving them a full backstory, I might have to make some kind of choice. But when we meet them casually in costume, we don’t necessarily know, and that’s turning out to be more of the point of the exercise than I originally expected.)