Profile of Oleander

Oleander carries himself always with an air of caution and the lightest of steps on a lithe figure. He has a slight bit of muscle that is hidden beneath his light gray pelt which can be seen rippling when his gait is a sprint. His smaller figure benefits him in his travels from slinking carefully through unfamiliar territory to dashing away at the quickest speed to the slightest questionable scent.

His snout is mostly white with a dark strip along the top of his muzzle leading to his black nose. His pelt darkens at his ears and down his back at the top of his rump but is also highlighted with the light gray. His tail is a mixture of the two combining grays. His fur is always somewhat unkempt as he does not find that he can sit still long enough to groom. That and he has much more to worry about than a handsome appearance. His curious gaze is accompanied by two bright, golden yellow eyes.

Oleander is as vigilant as they come and struggles with a new found anxiety now that he is on his own. Although he can play off as confident there is always a voice of a timid pup underneath it all that is constantly chattering. He is very slow to warm up to anyone he meets as he has experienced his share of violence in his life thus far. His over-watchful exterior might leave you to believe he selfishly looks out only for number one but once broken through his tough shell, he is a caring individual who would put others he cares about before himself. He feels that his trust must be earned however and his fierce loyalty would only apply to a few out of many.

Even under his thick skin he has a comedic side to him and he enjoys bringing in a light-hearted conversation into any situation. Learning to keep his chin up is how he gets through his days and he doesn’t mind teaching others that there is good in this world if you dig deep enough to find it. He is on a determined to share his kindness with others and hopes to one day find a community that shares the same sentiment. Then he could spend more time focusing on his passion for herbal remedies and getting in touch with his inner self.

Born into a small village, Oleander, was only accustomed to being around his mother and father, his grandfather (the only elder he'd ever known) two sisters, a and a few other villagers including his best friend Reike. His mother and father never spoke of other places and never spoke of other wolves outside of their little community or even how large the world was in general. The village had not seen nor welcomed outsiders in many years and had hidden themselves away in a secluded part of their lands. The first few months of his life were simpler times and although he was born with a sheepish demeanor it was normally eased by the spontaneity and outgoing personalities of his younger sisters. His grandfather was also a rock in his life who encouraged him to take curiosities seriously and to listen to his heart to find the courage to dream and conquer his ambitions. When he wasn't with his immediate family, he was exploring hidden wonders of the forest with Reike.

What a different wolf Oleander may have been if their trouble-free way of living had continued. His former life ended before he was a year old. When once the villagers could roam and explore their territory as they pleased there came over their wood a stillness in the air and by the Elder (his grandfather) they were confined to a central area of their territory. The matured wolves of the village kept information to the tone of a whisper. The only thing Oleander could pick up on as a young wolf was their changes in behavior. Curious as he was he had never caught wind of a conversation quick enough to be sure of what was occurring.

A night of sleep was suddenly interrupted with the smell of blood and the scent of fear. A band of raiders had invaded and while they were not organized as their own group, they outnumbered by the village and were strong enough to have already slaughtered most of the group. Oleander had found his sisters had been picked off and disposed of as if they were nothing. His grandfather and the other males of the village were all lying in their own blood as he spied the last of the rogues taking down his father.

His instinct was to escape as quickly as he could, but found his mother alive enough to gargle through blood with wide eyes in attempts to speak. He attempted to pull her away from the scene and get her out of harm’s way, but she struggled against him. He just barely made out the words coming from her ... “leave” and “go”. With this understanding, he took a final look at the scene, touched noses with his mother and fled. Chest heaving and choking back sobs of agony, he ran until the sun broke over the horizon and then kept running.

Everyone he'd ever known was dead...he assumed Reike was too. There had been so much blood, so much death when he was hardly old enough to even understand it. Orphaned, alone, and covered in blood, he wandered the area aimlessly by day looking for any means of food. By night he would return to the destroyed village, curling up into the corpses of his mother and father. Entirely shaken from the ordeal, Oleander has been avoiding and hiding from others as they stumble upon the carnage, fearful that they would hurt him too.

And that is where his story begins. There is so much life he has left to live...how will it all unfold?