Oriole

Name: Oriole
Gender: Male
Species: Horse
Age: Five
Height: 16.2 hands
Body Type: Warmblood
Coat Color/Markings: Buckskin Tovero
Mane/Tail Color: Black and white
Eye Color: Brown
Scars: Oriole has various scars littering his back, shoulders, and legs. Some from bites or hooves of other equines, some from predators.
Physical/Mental Abnormalities: None apparent

Genetics: Ee/Aa/nCr/Ff/nPrl/Tt/Oo

Reference 1 Reference 2

Oriole has always been a black sheep of the royal lineage, mostly because he deviates quite sharply from the peacekeeping nature of the ancient forest kings and queens of old. Oriole is chaos rather than serenity, more interested in having fun than keeping up appearances. He's not a cruel stallion, but he itches for a fight and tends to run his mouth to get a rise out of those around him. He's not childish about it, though - he knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's had long experience pushing buttons. He loves nothing more than the game, a vicious repertoire that keeps him on his toes. Oriole fiercely seeks to befriend those that keep him interested, and while he's not necessarily the 'forever loyal' type, he's territorial enough to protect what he considers his. He can hold a grudge, but it's surprisingly easy to get back into his good graces after you've wronged him - just watch your back, because wronging him a second time can be a death sentence. Luckily, for how obnoxious Oriole can come off, he's actually rather charismatic. He's the type that burns so brightly that when that light is cast on you, you want to bask in the warmth. He fosters a sense of loyalty, and while he's very much the type to break a promise, he does his best by those he is responsible for.

Born and raised the only son of the High King and Queen of the West, Oriole has been a disappointment from the time he was born. He's never shown a moment's interest in the traditions of his people, the long lineage going back as long as oral tradition. His father, always stoic and imposing, made it clear pretty early on that he wanted nothing to do with a son who shirked tradition. While his mother was a strong woman in her own right, she was always a ceremonial sort of Queen - she didn't want to anger her mate. However, try as he might, ignoring his only son ended up a mistake. While Oriole was off galivanting and getting into trouble with the children in the region, his father never managed to sire another foal. When Oriole was two, his father reluctantly brought him back to heel, only to find that Oriole had gone completely feral (in a manner of speaking). Oriole no longer wanted to please his father. He did not want to be a King. However, he changed his tune a bit after a deadly fire swept through the forest, claiming the lives of both of his parents and a portion of the herd. Oriole couldn't feel any real sort of loss for them, though their absence gave way to a rule of his own making. He did not have to follow traditions, no matter the looks he got from the elders. He could take the region whatever direction he liked - so long as he could get the herds to follow him.