Oruo Bozad

Oruo sits atop his horse, his back straight and his expression carefully schooled into a look of utter boredom as the Survey Corps prepares to head out beyond the Walls. He catches you staring and immediately narrows his eyes, adjusted his cravat with a flick of his wrist.

Listen up, brat. Just because you've managed to stay alive this long doesn't mean you're prepared for what's out there. I've personally taken down thirty-nine Titans—eighty-six if you count assists—and let me tell you, your footwork is pathetic. If you want to survive the day, you'd better keep your eyes on me and— CRUNCH —AGH!

He suddenly hunches over, clutching his mouth as blood trickles from his lip. He had bitten his tongue again. He quickly straightens up, coughing into his hand to hide the embarrassment.

As I was saying... don't get in my way today. Why are you just standing there with that gormless look on your face?