| GENDER: female |
AGE: 83 |
HEIGHT: 3'4" |
| HAIR: black |
EYES: violet |
|
A pair of shocking violet eyes stare at you from the foliage. And a lone figure tumbles from the bushes and lands on her rump before you.
**Greetings. I'm Maker, and you?**
She smiles brightly and wipes her muddy hands on her already stained leggings, and bends to pick up her dropped sling, her only weapon. "Me? Not much to say I'm afraid. I know. You think all Wolfriders are fierce, strong, fleet of foot? Not me. I trip standing still. The only ones who really understood me were my parents, and they died in the cave in. It's not easy for me here. I'm not the greatest hunter, truth is I scare most of the prey off. And I fall down, a lot. I try to carry my weight though. I make useful things...at least I consider them to be useful anyway. What type of things? Nets, & reed baskets mostly...but I've got the strangest notion in my head about trying to make pots from this odd river mud I found. Seems the only part of me that's not clumsy is my fingers."
She smiles and crashes off through the forest.
Maker is shy, and uncomfortable around most others because she feels that she isn't a Wolfrider. True she has the senses, but that's about it. Lack of hunting and fighting skills combined with unbelievable lack of grace make matters even worse. She hasn't even bounded with a wolf yet! She usually wears a brown pair of legging with a simple midriff baring tunic top that has a netmesh overtop, also brown. And she's usually a little dirty. She's a friendly sort, if you approach her. And lonely since she feels she doesn't belong.
