Post by Sherwood on Oct 1, 2015 23:57:31 GMT -5
Full Name: Briar
Nick Name(s): Rory by a few younger beasts.
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Age: Young Adult (16-19)
Species: Field Mouse
Appearance: Slight and slim for a mouse, Briar is built more or less the same as others of her species. She may differ a touch in the way her musculature has developed, with stronger legs and arms and a more wiry build due to her time spent running about or scuttling up and down trees and walls. Although she is far from a squirrel, she keeps her claws sharp enough to scramble up most surfaces with enough area to grip. Her body reflects this as well, in the form of rough calluses that have formed on the soles of her feet and the palms of her paws.
Her fur is primarily dark in coloration, reflecting a deep, shiny walnut along her back with mottlings of black hairs down her spine. It lightens around her face and belly, turning more chestnut and ruddy around her cheeks and along her chest. Her paws are a paler white, fading into pink on her claws and toes. Her ears a bit big for her face, though they don't look overly awkward. She has a small nick in her right ear, a trophy from sticking her head where it didn't belong, or so the story goes. The rest of her has so far, thankfully, not reflected any mishaps, including her tail, which is still whole and hale.
Anything that Briar tends to wear tends to lay flat to her, and she avoids flowy clothing if she can help it, claiming it catches too much on things and is difficult to move in without getting tangled up. She only goes back on this in the cold of the winter, at which time she will bundle herself up with blankets or thick cloaks.
Personality: Briar is first and foremost a boisterous and enthusiastic creature. She is a bombastic bundle of energy and seems at almost any moment to be ready to take on the world. Of course, this also means that for every up there is just as an extreme of a down, and can tend to reflect in a hard crash. Thankfully not in the literal sense, as this would spell trouble for her, but Briar is a heavy sleeper and tends to reflect a dead beast when she finally does collapse for the night complete with eerie silence and ability to sleep through anything.
She proclaims herself as curious, though the kindest words some might use for that is 'nosy'. She likes to know what's going on, even if it's not for the purpose of spreading information around. She simply hates being out of the loop on most things and as such, when she meets a beast that she can't get a personality read on, they unsettle as much as annoy her.
She can tend to make some...poor decisions. Though she enjoys adventure, her more unadvisable decisions for exploration have often ended her up stuck in a few places for a few hours until she's figured out how to undo what she's done or someone comes along and finds her. She can also act relatively rash in her daily life and lash out or make judgements and even friendships a touch too quickly. Briar, due to next to no exposure to anybeast bad tends to be openly trusting of most she meets. She will respond to her own gut instincts in the case of most vermin who may tend to instill a sense of unease anyway, but with the less obvious, she may be easily persuaded to trust unless proven otherwise.
Briar is after all, not unintelligent, far from it. She is just a wild-hearted youth who still needs to be tempered by more patience and wisdom as she becomes a true adult. In the meantime, that doesn't mean that she won't make sassy quips or rattle off a groan-inducing pun or two to anybeast nearby who might be listening. It's all for good fun, after all.
Allies: Redwall Abbey and anybeast of the Woods. She'd consider most a friend unless they prove otherwise.
Enemies: Haters of puns. Betrayers of her trust. She'll give most anyone a first chance before calls them an enemy.
Strengths: -Witty
-Excellent climber
-Agile and acrobatic
-Thinks outside the box
-Morally unshakeable
-Brave
Weakness: -Her lungs are weak.
-Perhaps a bit too trusting
-Terrible sense of humor
-Rash and a risk-taker
-Terrible liar
-No combat knowledge
-No weaponry knowledge outside of her sling and slingshot
-Hates the cold
Goal: Briar longs for adventure. She's always been awestruck by the legends and warriors of old, and would probably trip over herself for a chance to get out and explore the world more, but she's lacked the opportunity to make herself more worldly.
Background: Briar was born in the Mossflower woods though she was raised only by her mother as much as she remembers. Her father disappeared early in her life and she has no memory of him though her mother had told her stories about him. He had been a brave sailor with the otters and had never come back from one trip. It was likely that they'd been set upon by vermin or a storm or reef had torn the ship apart, at least that's what Briar came to realize as she grew older, but she preferred instead to imagine that he was still out there, too enraptured by the sea to return to his family just yet.
Her mother was an older mouse, having met her husband late in her life. So a few seasons later, when an illness swept through the wood, she fought but eventually succumbed to it. Briar had gone with her to the Abbey to seek a healer, though at that point, her mother had been far gone in the illness, and Briar herself had already caught the cough herself. After a few weeks, Briar managed to pull through, though scarring from her sickness left her lungs weak, and caused her to lag about breathlessly for a few months as she adjusted to what she had been left with.
The Abbey took the young mouse in now that she had no one to provide for her. When she'd made a recovery, it seemed as if Briar tried to do everything she could to make the Abbey regret the decision. Engaged fully by the need to explore a new place and every nook and cranny of it, she spent her days darting through halls, clambering up and down parapets, sneaking into pantries and hiding in cupboards along with the other young beasts that called the abbey their home. It was perhaps a last ditch effort to curb her boundless enthusiasm and energy and keep her from doing something dangerous, she was given the unofficial title of 'message runner'.
In a sense, Briar ended up the gopher of the Abbey, running about messages or small parcels when beasts were busy or when news was going around. It plugged her directly into the grapevine for Abbey gossip, and though Briar had little use for it, she found it intriguing to know so much about other people regardless. It also helped her become more well known, though this may not have always been a good thing given her penchant for good natured sass and terrible puns. As she got older, she was even allowed to run messages short distances to beasts in the wood, though no farther than that, as most of those jobs were best for flying creatures that had allied themselves with the Abbey.
Regardless, Briar loves being able to get outside of the walls when she can, though she enjoys clambering over every well known inch of the place as well. She'd love to see what lays beyond the wood and more of the world, but she knows she's too young still, and that the world is quite dangerous. But perhaps...in time...if she's patient, she'll find an opportunity for more.
Quirks: She likes to make quips and puns. She only uses this power for good though...so she says. Briar loves music and her singing voice is best described as 'alright', though she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
Weapons: Sling and slingshot, though she prefers the former. Natural-born weapons like claws and her teeth.
Nick Name(s): Rory by a few younger beasts.
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Age: Young Adult (16-19)
Species: Field Mouse
Appearance: Slight and slim for a mouse, Briar is built more or less the same as others of her species. She may differ a touch in the way her musculature has developed, with stronger legs and arms and a more wiry build due to her time spent running about or scuttling up and down trees and walls. Although she is far from a squirrel, she keeps her claws sharp enough to scramble up most surfaces with enough area to grip. Her body reflects this as well, in the form of rough calluses that have formed on the soles of her feet and the palms of her paws.
Her fur is primarily dark in coloration, reflecting a deep, shiny walnut along her back with mottlings of black hairs down her spine. It lightens around her face and belly, turning more chestnut and ruddy around her cheeks and along her chest. Her paws are a paler white, fading into pink on her claws and toes. Her ears a bit big for her face, though they don't look overly awkward. She has a small nick in her right ear, a trophy from sticking her head where it didn't belong, or so the story goes. The rest of her has so far, thankfully, not reflected any mishaps, including her tail, which is still whole and hale.
Anything that Briar tends to wear tends to lay flat to her, and she avoids flowy clothing if she can help it, claiming it catches too much on things and is difficult to move in without getting tangled up. She only goes back on this in the cold of the winter, at which time she will bundle herself up with blankets or thick cloaks.
Personality: Briar is first and foremost a boisterous and enthusiastic creature. She is a bombastic bundle of energy and seems at almost any moment to be ready to take on the world. Of course, this also means that for every up there is just as an extreme of a down, and can tend to reflect in a hard crash. Thankfully not in the literal sense, as this would spell trouble for her, but Briar is a heavy sleeper and tends to reflect a dead beast when she finally does collapse for the night complete with eerie silence and ability to sleep through anything.
She proclaims herself as curious, though the kindest words some might use for that is 'nosy'. She likes to know what's going on, even if it's not for the purpose of spreading information around. She simply hates being out of the loop on most things and as such, when she meets a beast that she can't get a personality read on, they unsettle as much as annoy her.
She can tend to make some...poor decisions. Though she enjoys adventure, her more unadvisable decisions for exploration have often ended her up stuck in a few places for a few hours until she's figured out how to undo what she's done or someone comes along and finds her. She can also act relatively rash in her daily life and lash out or make judgements and even friendships a touch too quickly. Briar, due to next to no exposure to anybeast bad tends to be openly trusting of most she meets. She will respond to her own gut instincts in the case of most vermin who may tend to instill a sense of unease anyway, but with the less obvious, she may be easily persuaded to trust unless proven otherwise.
Briar is after all, not unintelligent, far from it. She is just a wild-hearted youth who still needs to be tempered by more patience and wisdom as she becomes a true adult. In the meantime, that doesn't mean that she won't make sassy quips or rattle off a groan-inducing pun or two to anybeast nearby who might be listening. It's all for good fun, after all.
Allies: Redwall Abbey and anybeast of the Woods. She'd consider most a friend unless they prove otherwise.
Enemies: Haters of puns. Betrayers of her trust. She'll give most anyone a first chance before calls them an enemy.
Strengths: -Witty
-Excellent climber
-Agile and acrobatic
-Thinks outside the box
-Morally unshakeable
-Brave
Weakness: -Her lungs are weak.
-Perhaps a bit too trusting
-Terrible sense of humor
-Rash and a risk-taker
-Terrible liar
-No combat knowledge
-No weaponry knowledge outside of her sling and slingshot
-Hates the cold
Goal: Briar longs for adventure. She's always been awestruck by the legends and warriors of old, and would probably trip over herself for a chance to get out and explore the world more, but she's lacked the opportunity to make herself more worldly.
Background: Briar was born in the Mossflower woods though she was raised only by her mother as much as she remembers. Her father disappeared early in her life and she has no memory of him though her mother had told her stories about him. He had been a brave sailor with the otters and had never come back from one trip. It was likely that they'd been set upon by vermin or a storm or reef had torn the ship apart, at least that's what Briar came to realize as she grew older, but she preferred instead to imagine that he was still out there, too enraptured by the sea to return to his family just yet.
Her mother was an older mouse, having met her husband late in her life. So a few seasons later, when an illness swept through the wood, she fought but eventually succumbed to it. Briar had gone with her to the Abbey to seek a healer, though at that point, her mother had been far gone in the illness, and Briar herself had already caught the cough herself. After a few weeks, Briar managed to pull through, though scarring from her sickness left her lungs weak, and caused her to lag about breathlessly for a few months as she adjusted to what she had been left with.
The Abbey took the young mouse in now that she had no one to provide for her. When she'd made a recovery, it seemed as if Briar tried to do everything she could to make the Abbey regret the decision. Engaged fully by the need to explore a new place and every nook and cranny of it, she spent her days darting through halls, clambering up and down parapets, sneaking into pantries and hiding in cupboards along with the other young beasts that called the abbey their home. It was perhaps a last ditch effort to curb her boundless enthusiasm and energy and keep her from doing something dangerous, she was given the unofficial title of 'message runner'.
In a sense, Briar ended up the gopher of the Abbey, running about messages or small parcels when beasts were busy or when news was going around. It plugged her directly into the grapevine for Abbey gossip, and though Briar had little use for it, she found it intriguing to know so much about other people regardless. It also helped her become more well known, though this may not have always been a good thing given her penchant for good natured sass and terrible puns. As she got older, she was even allowed to run messages short distances to beasts in the wood, though no farther than that, as most of those jobs were best for flying creatures that had allied themselves with the Abbey.
Regardless, Briar loves being able to get outside of the walls when she can, though she enjoys clambering over every well known inch of the place as well. She'd love to see what lays beyond the wood and more of the world, but she knows she's too young still, and that the world is quite dangerous. But perhaps...in time...if she's patient, she'll find an opportunity for more.
Quirks: She likes to make quips and puns. She only uses this power for good though...so she says. Briar loves music and her singing voice is best described as 'alright', though she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
Weapons: Sling and slingshot, though she prefers the former. Natural-born weapons like claws and her teeth.
bye!
