Profile of Móro Elainen

Terracotta eyes rimmed in black glimmer in the sunlight, thick tufts of thin fur sway like golden autumnal grasses in the wind, and lithe, trained steps set the dance of her feminine and youthful form. Her gaze darts and hones, judges though discreetly and politely, head dipped and tail asway with a classic black-lipped smile--something left wanting and reserved in how her eye relaxes. Something in her spirit pulls away.

And despite the soft pastoral beauty, these features guard the sharp edge to them; from her neck to her belly and legs, her coat has become as sharp as pine leaves, and thereunder this harsh and prickly fur reside an old scar--healed burned skinned now discolored, which she fights to hide by her daily grooming. While this is hardly noticeable to an unassuming eye, it is redder than her regular hide and makes the shadows therecast rosier, or so she hopes.

i. Sensitive in her watchfulness of others, her perceptions and judgements of others, her quick wit, intuition, empathetic tendencies, and neuroticism wound into one.
i.a.There is something ghostly about her demeanor, the way she wanders and watches through the scenes of life. Known by those close to her as a wanderer by heart, she is as likely to attempt to lose herself in the woods as she is to have her nose stuffed in a book--her mind there scattered. And yet, she is hardly ever lost or scattered. Indeed, she craves adventure and so too the company of the world around her, she is also purposeful in her quest for solitude.

ii. Graceful in her reservation and kindness, in her movements and consideration, in maintaining a facade of togetherness for other people to rely on her if need be.

iii. Disciplined in her strong-will, her endurance, her athletic build and ability to run for long periods of time, in how she treats duty and honor, in how she measures her responsibility toward others and the world around her.
iii.a. The way most see this side of her nature is with her approach to the knowledge she accumulates, be that through books, through story, or however else. Such is what drew her to the career of a healer to help the body, and to that of a witch, her passions channeled like lightning brewing in the clouds waiting for the moment they might aid.

iv. Worldly in her experience traveling as an outlander, her knowledge from books, in how she feels and sees the small parts of the world with vibrant new people, in how she internalizes trauma and the evils of the world, and why she values solitude.
iv.a.Years of traveling in her early life made it difficult to form a stable friend group, and her great difficulty is then keeping those around her as constants. This is made worse by her troubles when she was a year of age, when she received her terrible burn. Too well does she know the fragility of the mind, the unkindness of the passing years, and yet she guards her hopeful flame, and seeks to help others to keep theirs alit.

v.Peaceful in her kindness, rarely measured and generous, in her violent heart and rage she tempers, in what she seeks to cultivate in herself and give to the world should the world honor her with the task, for the way she speaks, and appears to others, a thing that while playful, holds fast and hopeful to the idea "if we listened and we cared, if we could be heard and we could be loved, perhaps we wouldn't try to kill each other to be the loudest, to be the most loved."

She keeps much of her past guarded, whether due to a serious accident or a terrible crime committed against herself; she does not openly speak about it.

But what is known is thus:

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Móro was born to Clover of Clauran is my mother, and Tuoni of Onir is my father: Clover was a native lowlander, a fisherwoman, who moved away into the Outlands to look for a cure for Clauran's, Clover's mother's, growing memory loss as she grew older; Tuoni was an outlander and antiquarian merchant who had a posey of vagabonds, gypsies, and the like--all who loved company and delving into strange places for books, bones, and other strange places.

Clover and Tuoni's love was an impassioned one, but naive. Clover thought Tuoni a helpful and knowledgeable miracle, and Tuoni thought his bird just that--His. Possessiveness and resentment ran amok, and when the children were born, Móro among them, the infighting only grew worse. Children's affections were seen as marks of superiority and were regularly fought over until it all came to a head one night, the same night of the fire, when Clauran disappeared.

After this, the couple seemed to truly consider separation, but Móro, instead of waiting, left to the country her mother spoke so fondly of, leaving her family scattered to the wind. Travel was long and arduous, but finally she came to the Maiden's Braid where her mother spoke of and found the village of fishers she had heard so much about. She was met with some distrust until her aunt, Agave, vouched for her. Móro, however, did not stay long thereafter; excited to meet her extended family, in desperate hope they'd be anything different from her own parents, she asked to meet anyone Agave knew that she would be related to. Agave's head dropped, and tell of her "changeling child" Juniper slipped. Móro said nothing, and kept her bitter rage at the fates quiet, as she tore off into the word searching for her golden pelted cousin and the stranger who saved her.

It seemed even strangers cared more than any part of her family.

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From there, the rest is a closely guarded secret. How many brothers or sisters she has, where her parents lived now, the members of her father's merchant troupe, and what happened to Clauran.