[CLOSED] Draelin's First Litter <3

OBERYN

there are a million things i want to do. waiting around waiting isn't one of them.

Appearance -

As an adult, Oberyn will stand at 3”6 in height, with an agile build with long, slender legs. His fur is smooth, and often well-kept due to his own strict grooming of it; in colour is a honeyed mix of browns, ranging from tawny in nature to a lighter blend, with a flash of white across his chest, rising up to his chin. Around his ears, however, the browns darken, even looking black in places. Oberyn’s eyes are golden, flecked with brown, matched the mottled nature of his pelt, most often seen with a gaze as warm as the sun. His resting expression, and overall demeanor, is that of casual relaxation -- mischief ofen sparkling behind the golden gaze.

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Personality -

Oberyn is prideful in himself, sometimes to a fault. He believes himself handsome, talented; and is cocksure in the way some someone who believes such things firmly. He thinks himself quite charming, always the flirt, and has a certain way with words; from silver tongued, boldface lies, to eloquently constructed compliments designed to lull in and convince, Oberyn relies on his words just as much as his combative abilities. Oberyn believes in himself-- though this can make him rather arrogant, and even reckless, forgetful his limitations.

He is extremely ambitious as a result, he knows that there is an entire world out there for him to explore, and that the possibilities are endless. Oberyn is never content to merely sit around, always itching to do or find something new; and the idea of remaining any one place for too long is appealing to him. Oberyn strives to be his best in everything -- even if he’s not the best (which he may complain about, but still begrudgingly accepts), he is only ever satisfied with a job if he feels all the effort he could muster has been placed into it.

Oberyn has a optimism for the world around him, choosing, always, to see the best in others. He assumes positive intent in every situation that allows him to do so, allowing the benefit of the doubt, as well as a second chance-- but only a second chance. Oberyn never appreciates being made a fool of, and while he may seemingly forgive, he never forgets. Oberyn holds loyalty above all else. Once his trust is earned and his faith set, it is unwavering, and he expects the same in turn. To be a traitor is to be a coward, in Oberyn’s eyes, and to be a coward who abandons his own; that is simply the worst a person can be, aside from cruel.

Oberyn has a ridgid sense of justice; at his core believing that it is his duty, as well as anyone else with the ability, to fight for those who cannot stand for themselves. Oberyn will gladly defend others, due to the fact that if he were in such a position, he would hope someone would defend him. Cruelty, in any form, disgusts him more than disloyalty; and though he believes in karmic justice, he is often more than willing to lend a paw to get it moving along. He can be extremely hot-headed, especially when it comes to protecting the ones he loves; his already short fuse is worsened even further if there is a threat to his family. He is easily insulted, and therefore riled, and will start arguments at the slightest insult to himself or his family. Furthermore, Oberyn can never back down from a challenge, taking it as a chance to prove himself.

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SAMPLE -

There’s nothing that makes him feel more free than this.

He looks out over the cliff, observing the lands below -- this high up he can see his fellow pack members, small figures moving around their camp. It’s less restrictive, less stuffy, all the way up here, away from everyone. Just beyond, he can see the glinting first rays of the rising sun on the horizon. The cool, crisp breeze of the morning blows through his fur, ruffling it slightly; and he closes his eyes into the feeling. He inhales a deep breath, a small smile playing on his lips. Is there really any better way to spend the morning?

It’s become routine, now, wandering out of camp at dawn. He’s found it a good time to train and practice-- without anyone coming to bother him, before he has any duties for the day. It gives him chance to breath before letting himself get swept up in the activities devised for the day. He’s built up his strength, his stamina, bit by bit, by his expeditions here; he’s learned the pathways well, become used the the feeling of the dirt and the pebbles under his thundering paws. He’s gotten faster at getting back to the camp, starting from the cliff; though he hopes to get his time down even further by the end of the season.

And the best way to practice? Match himself against someone else. There was no better way to test his skill.

Golden eyes flutter open, and Oberyn shakes himself, smooths out his fur. He flicks an ear, tail twitching as he turns around with his usual playful grin flashing on his maw.

“Are you ready?” He asks, his voice a slow, casual drawl -- practically dripping with confidence. He can win this, and he knows it. His siblings may be fast, perhaps, but he knows the lay of the land, knows the ways to go; and, well, if it comes down to it, he’s not above sneaking in a small short cut. It’s not cheating. It’s knowing. It’s being clever.

“I will warn you, though,” He says, with a hum, stepping forward, stretching out his body, readying in a stance to set off down the mountain. “I won’t go easy on you." He gives them a wink.  Oh-so-sure of himself. "Last one to the bottom fetches food for everyone, how does that sound?”

The sweet taste of victory would only make the food even better, after all.