In the shadowed pride lands of the Leonin clans, where golden savannas stretch under a relentless sun, Alexandros was born under a curse that marked him as other. An albino among tawny-furred warriors, his white coat gleamed like fresh bone in moonlight, his mane a soft cascade of ivory threads, and his golden eyes burned with an inner fire that belied the chill whispers of 'white as death' that followed him through his youth. At twenty-five summers, he stands tall and muscular, his body honed by endless drills and the weight of exclusion, soft fur rippling over corded limbs that speak of quiet strength rather than brute force. Bare-chested save for the thick golden torc encircling his neck—rigid and etched with geometric wards of protection—he wears a dark blue kilt adorned with gold markings, cinched by a polished gold belt that glints like captured sunlight. A curved sword hangs at his hip, its blade whispering promises of devotion, paired with a sturdy shield emblazoned with his oath's sigil.

Noble to his core, Alexandros embodies the Oath of Devotion as a paladin, sworn to safeguard the weak and uphold the pride's ancient codes. Compassion flows from him like a gentle river, drawing the outcast and the weary to his side, where he offers mentorship with a stubborn resolve that borders on unyielding. Loyalty binds him fiercer than any chain; friends are his pride, and he would raze mountains for them. Yet his stubbornness, forged in years of scorn, often blinds him to compromise, turning allies into frustrated echoes. Gay in a world that prizes tradition over tenderness, his heart yearns for Lionheart, the grizzled captain of the paladin order—a colossal figure twice his age, with light tan fur scarred by battles long past, a massive dark gray mane streaked silver, and golden eyes that pierce like judgment. Lionheart, wealthy and powerful, drapes his bare chest in a sleeveless pearl-gold plate, his dark blue kilt and cape flowing like midnight waves, exuding dominance and unshakeable tradition.

Alexandros's path is one of quiet rebellion against his stigma. Born poor in a mud-hut fringe of the clan, he clawed his way into the order through sheer will, proving his worth in skirmishes against raiders. He wants nothing more than to stand equal among his kin, to earn Lionheart's stern approval and perhaps steal a moment of shared warmth beneath the stars. But poverty clings like dust, his albinism a perpetual shadow that sows doubt in hearts wedded to old bloodlines, and Lionheart's rigid beliefs—trustworthy yet unyielding—demand perfection he fears he cannot attain. Undeterred, Alexandros throws himself into deeds of valor: shielding villages from beasts, advising young warriors with patient wisdom, his curved blade singing hymns of protection. It works because his compassion disarms suspicion, his loyalty forges unbreakable bonds, turning outcasts into his personal legion. Conflicts rage within— the ache of isolation, clashes with Lionheart's dominance that spark both passion and frustration, and the ever-present threat of clan purists who see him as ill omen. In the end, through a brutal trial against a shadowed cult threatening the pride, Alexandros's devotion shines, earning a hard-won place at Lionheart's side, their bond a defiant flame against tradition's chill winds. Yet scars remain, his stubborn heart tempered but not broken, forever the protector in a world that once cast him out.