Post by Resh on Sept 29, 2011 22:37:06 GMT -5
Name: Resholea Fairleaf
Nickname/Alias: Resh
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Species: Woodland Mouse
Occupation: Master storyteller, tale spinner, ballad singer, etc. Not a bad dancer, either. Wanderer.
Physical Appearance:
General:
Resholea is a gentle dark brown, much darkened from her cream-colored days as a dibbun. Her underbelly has slight lighter tones, as the undersides of her paws. She is of average height and not especially slight; more of a healthy build. She walks like one more concerned with her destination than with the gracefulness of the limbs, and her dark walnut colored eyes more often than not sparkle with a fair bit of cheek in them.
Clothing
Resh wears a a pale yellow tunic with three-quarter length sleeves. It is trimmed with a brown and burgundy stitchwork around the neck and hem of the sleeves and bottom. She wears a tied belt around her waist of a strong burgundy weave. On her paws she wears simple but practical sandals. She owns a floppy pale yellow cap with a brown band with several long feathers stuck in it.
Possessions:
On her back she carries a fine fiddle in a wood-and-barkcloth case. Named Lady Dae, it is her finest possession and only companion. Also over her shoulder she carries a dark drawstring sack, in which she carries various vittles, a cake of pine resin, and a knife she refers to as her "shiv".
Personality:
Independent, cheeky, sarcastic, and generally cheerful, Resh loves nothing more than to perform. Be it a table top, flagstones or forest floor she has a song for many moments, ever the more grand with an audience. She likes Autumn days, apple cider, and can't stand silence, though tends to fall into one herself with annoyed or angry. People who don't appreciate music - especially hers - makes her moody, being interrupted irritates her, and disrespect to elders makes her downright seethe. She has a natural talent with getting along with others, but with that comes friendship and true opening up, two things she is not willing to do. She lives the stage life, making herself scarce as soon as she starts to feel the pull of a family again. She doesn't trust herself to survive if she looses someone again. Confident and independent on the outside, she's afraid of real life on the inside.
Strengths:
Resh has a great talent with music, her voice and fiddle - and a fantastic story telling presence. She can win many a chugging contest if it's something mild and is healthy in the legs and can walk for great distances without tiring.
Weaknesses:
Music and tales make Resh who she is. Underneath it, she isn't sure who she is. While comfortable in groups of creatures, she's awkward one-on-one or when the subject is about herself. She's a bad swimmer.
History:
If there's one thing Resh has learned, it's that long term relationships haven't done her any good. She was raised by her grandmother in Mossflower woods, in a small but comfortable hovel. In a small celebration for the birth of their daughter, Resholea's mother and father took a boat onto a side river with four others for a quiet night to recover from the stress of the birth. Inexperienced on the water, they were swept into the rapids. All six of them drowned.
Never knowing her parents, a relationship between her and her grandmother developed, something far more acute than a friendship between a young one and an elder. So when her grandmother passed on when she was twelve, Resholea was torn into pieces. She was taken in by a friend of her grandmother's.
Drene Spikeworth and her family of two young hogs slowly patched together the wreck that Resh was. Her husband was one of the party who drowned with Resholea's parents. Clinging to Drene and wringing all the mother out of her that she could, Resh felt comfortable once again.
As she watched the little one under her care, Drene worried that Resholea would too easily fall apart at the seams and lacked inner female strength. She looked and saw potential for independence... and so slowly let go of the maid she watched grow up with her grandmother.
Confused, Resh didn't understand why the hedgehog she loved like a mother seemed to be letting her go. She didn't feel like she could cling to her like she used to, or even come to her with her woodland-maid troubles.
Hurting and confused, Resh left at fourteen, leaving behind a thrice as worried Drene.
She wandered, wearing the tunic she treasured so much that her grandmother had made for her. She wandered, she rested, she slept in the open air, she slept with small families before moving on. And then she met Ezekiel. The middle aged vole took her in, treated her like a daughter. He taught her how to use her fine voice, how to play the fiddle. He helped her understand what Drene might of meant -
"I shouldn't have left her, Zeke. I shouldn't've left 'er," Resh would say.
Because the season or two after leaving Drene Spikeworth's family and before Ezekiel found her had taught her independence. Strength. Who she really was, what her grandmother had passed on to her.
For two years Resholea lived with Zeke in his small woodland home, singing with him and playing fine fiddle duets, her on the Lady Dae, him on the Lord Everfore, the best cousin pair of fiddles there ever was.
But then the fever caught him. He didn't last long, and once again Resh lost a friend - this time, he left her. She buried the soul near the stream that ran by his home, tucked the Lord Everfore carefully away in his home, and took the Lady Dae.
She was sixteen then, and has been wandering ever since, taking food and shelter for performing, well using the gifts Ezekiel taught her. She'd stay for several days, a winter season at best, playing and singing all the while, then be on her way. She gave up on making a family again, not thinking that she could stand it to loose someone again.
"I shouldn't have left her," She'll say to herself. "But then I ain't never have met ol' Zeke," She'll say. "Mayhaps it was for the good. Good, dear Drene. Good ol' Zeke." Tears leaking from her eyes.
If there's anything she's learned, it's that relationships haven't done her any good.
Relationships:
Jubilee, Grandmother, deceased.
Drene, adopted mother.
Ezekiel, closest friend, deceased.
Nickname/Alias: Resh
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Species: Woodland Mouse
Occupation: Master storyteller, tale spinner, ballad singer, etc. Not a bad dancer, either. Wanderer.
Physical Appearance:
General:
Resholea is a gentle dark brown, much darkened from her cream-colored days as a dibbun. Her underbelly has slight lighter tones, as the undersides of her paws. She is of average height and not especially slight; more of a healthy build. She walks like one more concerned with her destination than with the gracefulness of the limbs, and her dark walnut colored eyes more often than not sparkle with a fair bit of cheek in them.
Clothing
Resh wears a a pale yellow tunic with three-quarter length sleeves. It is trimmed with a brown and burgundy stitchwork around the neck and hem of the sleeves and bottom. She wears a tied belt around her waist of a strong burgundy weave. On her paws she wears simple but practical sandals. She owns a floppy pale yellow cap with a brown band with several long feathers stuck in it.
Possessions:
On her back she carries a fine fiddle in a wood-and-barkcloth case. Named Lady Dae, it is her finest possession and only companion. Also over her shoulder she carries a dark drawstring sack, in which she carries various vittles, a cake of pine resin, and a knife she refers to as her "shiv".
Personality:
Independent, cheeky, sarcastic, and generally cheerful, Resh loves nothing more than to perform. Be it a table top, flagstones or forest floor she has a song for many moments, ever the more grand with an audience. She likes Autumn days, apple cider, and can't stand silence, though tends to fall into one herself with annoyed or angry. People who don't appreciate music - especially hers - makes her moody, being interrupted irritates her, and disrespect to elders makes her downright seethe. She has a natural talent with getting along with others, but with that comes friendship and true opening up, two things she is not willing to do. She lives the stage life, making herself scarce as soon as she starts to feel the pull of a family again. She doesn't trust herself to survive if she looses someone again. Confident and independent on the outside, she's afraid of real life on the inside.
Strengths:
Resh has a great talent with music, her voice and fiddle - and a fantastic story telling presence. She can win many a chugging contest if it's something mild and is healthy in the legs and can walk for great distances without tiring.
Weaknesses:
Music and tales make Resh who she is. Underneath it, she isn't sure who she is. While comfortable in groups of creatures, she's awkward one-on-one or when the subject is about herself. She's a bad swimmer.
History:
If there's one thing Resh has learned, it's that long term relationships haven't done her any good. She was raised by her grandmother in Mossflower woods, in a small but comfortable hovel. In a small celebration for the birth of their daughter, Resholea's mother and father took a boat onto a side river with four others for a quiet night to recover from the stress of the birth. Inexperienced on the water, they were swept into the rapids. All six of them drowned.
Never knowing her parents, a relationship between her and her grandmother developed, something far more acute than a friendship between a young one and an elder. So when her grandmother passed on when she was twelve, Resholea was torn into pieces. She was taken in by a friend of her grandmother's.
Drene Spikeworth and her family of two young hogs slowly patched together the wreck that Resh was. Her husband was one of the party who drowned with Resholea's parents. Clinging to Drene and wringing all the mother out of her that she could, Resh felt comfortable once again.
As she watched the little one under her care, Drene worried that Resholea would too easily fall apart at the seams and lacked inner female strength. She looked and saw potential for independence... and so slowly let go of the maid she watched grow up with her grandmother.
Confused, Resh didn't understand why the hedgehog she loved like a mother seemed to be letting her go. She didn't feel like she could cling to her like she used to, or even come to her with her woodland-maid troubles.
Hurting and confused, Resh left at fourteen, leaving behind a thrice as worried Drene.
She wandered, wearing the tunic she treasured so much that her grandmother had made for her. She wandered, she rested, she slept in the open air, she slept with small families before moving on. And then she met Ezekiel. The middle aged vole took her in, treated her like a daughter. He taught her how to use her fine voice, how to play the fiddle. He helped her understand what Drene might of meant -
"I shouldn't have left her, Zeke. I shouldn't've left 'er," Resh would say.
Because the season or two after leaving Drene Spikeworth's family and before Ezekiel found her had taught her independence. Strength. Who she really was, what her grandmother had passed on to her.
For two years Resholea lived with Zeke in his small woodland home, singing with him and playing fine fiddle duets, her on the Lady Dae, him on the Lord Everfore, the best cousin pair of fiddles there ever was.
But then the fever caught him. He didn't last long, and once again Resh lost a friend - this time, he left her. She buried the soul near the stream that ran by his home, tucked the Lord Everfore carefully away in his home, and took the Lady Dae.
She was sixteen then, and has been wandering ever since, taking food and shelter for performing, well using the gifts Ezekiel taught her. She'd stay for several days, a winter season at best, playing and singing all the while, then be on her way. She gave up on making a family again, not thinking that she could stand it to loose someone again.
"I shouldn't have left her," She'll say to herself. "But then I ain't never have met ol' Zeke," She'll say. "Mayhaps it was for the good. Good, dear Drene. Good ol' Zeke." Tears leaking from her eyes.
If there's anything she's learned, it's that relationships haven't done her any good.
Relationships:
Jubilee, Grandmother, deceased.
Drene, adopted mother.
Ezekiel, closest friend, deceased.
