sonder autumn 1710
3 years old
College of Eòlas
Cross-studies student
Soft and feathery fur drapes across a thin, wiry figure. While he could be classified as 'medium' in size, the qualification only reaches to his height, his weight likely disproportionately light in comparison. Every feature of his figure seems to be pointed and thin, while his lush fur drapes in plenty around the nape of his neck and the base of his nub-like tail. His eyes are a pale, liquid hue-- as if yellowed pages from an ancient book.

tall boi - lanky child - wiry - lil' deer tail
fur palette
eye colour
parchment and fig
It seems Arthur was destined to be nothing more and nothing less than exactly what he is and is growing to be. Born from mixed-nationality parents and growing up in the Lowlands, Arthur is a spirit of compromise and understanding. Think first, think again, and then act. He takes each moment in for what it is, and while some could call it overthinking, he prefers that over the potential for rash and hasty mistakes. Mistakes made by both the mainland and highlands alike. A studious soul inhabits his heart, and he nurtures it lovingly and purposefully, his desires persistently focused on making the world a better place.


His idealism should not be mistaken for naivety though. He has lost too much, suffered too much pain, to not understand the cruelty of the world. But he believes that through common factors -- science, history, anthropology -- everyone is essentially the same. And he believes that if he can prove this to everyone, using the language they understand, peace can finally settle amidst the land.

So dedicated to this cause to try and give his loss and pain purpose, the man can often get lost in his studies. He may forget to eat, may forget to sleep, may forget to talk to others about anything not relating to his field.
study all the faeries - hummingbirds - peace and quiet for Rionnach - books - books - books
Neutral Good
attracted to
In 1703, Gertrude and Cathal were put into a group for a project in one of their mutual classes. In 1705, their son Arthur was born. The boy grew up with parents from very different walks of life: his mother, born into a high-class family of the court and who left that lifestyle (to the disgruntlement of her parents) to study medicine; and his father, a Highlander born into a large, simple family and who wished to explore more of the world. His mother touted facts and logic, his father embraced intuition and spirit — and yet together, they shared a love of learning, and a humility and willingness to listen that bridged their differences and bonded them closer than anyone could have imagined.

Under this intellectual bridge, Arthur grew— and he flourished.

His parents were attentive and kind. Gertrude did not take much time off from her courses when she gave birth, and as she got deeper into her studies she spent more and more time within the research, and more and more time taking trips to aid her in her field. Often, it was Arthur and Cathal at home alone. When his mother was home, however, they were a snapshot of a happy family.

His father spoke fondly of his Highlandic childhood, and unapologetically explained the Fae and all lore and traditions. He believed in it all whole-heartedly, and taught it all to his son. Gertrude, on the other hand, was rather doubtful of the existence of Fae. She taught her son the importance of empirical evidence and the use of logic when deciding anything important in life. The only time Arthur ever saw his parents get close to arguing with one another was over the topic of the Fae, and the superstitious traditions of the Highlands. Even still, they always ended on a note of amiable agreement that either couldn’t possibly know the truth either way. The always ended on a note of love.

(If it wasn’t obvious where Arthur obtained his life’s ambition from, it should be now).

Arthur spent his childhood lurking in the back of his mother’s classrooms (when she was not on one of her travels) as she taught, and taking trips to the Highlands for festivals and family visits. Perhaps as a reach to become closer to his mother, at a year old, Arthur joined the College himself. He created his own area of focus, declaring his desire to prove the existence of the Fae and to find the source of Highlandic tradition.

Gertrude got the opportunity to study abroad. Cathal encouraged her to go, as did Arthur (though it was more bittersweet for him— he didn’t want her to go, but the opportunity was a grand one). So in 1706, off she went, and it was Arthur and Cathal once more, with the occasional raven-message from Gertrude.

Arthur buried himself in his studies, and his father became more and more distressed by the political atmosphere. Messages from home concerned him, and when the time for finally came, Cathal joined in the fight. Much to Arthur’s horror, he pleaded with his father not to go— that it wasn’t worth it. That, perhaps, the Highlands and the Mainlands could talk out the tensions. Cathal offered his son a sad smile and told him to continue his studies, that his path was a good one— and that sometimes they weren’t given a choice. He had to help his family and stand up for his traditions, or they would be lost. Arthur watched as his father suited up in rag-tag armor and left for the North. It was the last time he saw him.

It was later confirmed that Cathal had perished in the battle. Arthur sent a numb message with a raven to his mother, but never heard back. He also discovered that his mother’s family (he’d met them only a few times, and was not particularly close to them), were civilian casualties in the uprising. In the beat of a hummingbird’s wing, his family was ripped apart.
politics rips families apart - we are stronger together

- In the year of 1709, Arthur experienced the strange effects that many others did and did not age…
Cathal and Gertrude Locke



Born with short nub-tail