Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2015 12:49:21 GMT -5
OOC
Name: Tasha
Years RPing: 7?
Other: <3
How You Found Us: -whispers- magic
General
Name: Sansa
Birthday: 12 January 2013
Gender: Female
Species: Arctic
Physical
Height: 29''
Length: 55"
Weight: 170 lbs
Coat Color: White
Eye Color: Green
Health Issues: N/A
Other Information: Twin downward arcs from the corners of her eyes. Unusual marking donated by Zen <33
Mental
Mental Stability: Sane
History:
She never knew where she came from. She never knew the names of her parents - she had never seen their faces, not even in her dreams. All she knew was what her foster parents had told her (and they had made sure she understood that they were merely foster parents. They were not, and would never be, her parents): that she had been found, abandoned and shivering in one of the worst storms their pack had ever seen. An ill omen, if they were to be believed - and yet, from the goodness of their hearts, they had taken Sansa in.
The dove had always known her place in the pecking order: She was of the pack, but she was not part of the pack, in the way it most counted. Her days were long, her nights lonely, for parents would usher their children away from the orphaned foundling, and the rest would cling to the priests' words - that she was an ill omen. Sansa was isolated, and it was no easy thing to be unwanted, even if her gentle heart could understand the reason why.
They were fearful; they loved each other, they loved the pack. If she truly was an ill omen, then they were right to resent her presence. Nonetheless, it still hurt.
Pups grew, and eventually, the wheels would spin back to the beginning. It began innocently enough, for the youths were kept away from her, and it was only understandable if they were curious. They started asking questions, and with the reasoning of youthful naivete, understood that she was unwanted. That she was fair sport, even if the other pups with real parents to protect them were not.
They would follow her around as she explored, teased her as she tested this herb and that, studying under the gruff old Healer who was only too willing to pass on his knowledge, but not to care about her. They could grow cruel, throw barbs that stung and cut her soft belly - but she wasn't allowed to retaliate, because the only time she had done so, the pup's parents had descended upon her like avenging angels and terrified her into submission.
This was her life. It was a lonely one - but the old Healer would sometimes give her advice, which she still takes to heart to this day. She watched from the sidelines as the pups matured, eventually becoming entrenched in the pack's politics and fighting to rise to the top. She watched as their ambition would destroy friendships, turn brother upon brother, friend upon friend. And lonely as she was, Sansa had sworn never to let such a thing control her - she would keep her friends and take care of them as best as she knew how.
Sansa, too, grew - and when she was old enough, she left. And she never looked back - for there was nothing for her back there. And she was sure that nobody would miss her. She ventured out for the first time into the wide, wide world that she had never before explored. Starvation nearly claimed her, a couple of rogues, a storm. Yet, despite it all, she survived.
She went as far as her legs could take her - cast herself into the salty sea and swam to the shore. She wanted to start a new life, one unmarred by the shadows of her past.
Personality:
Sansa speaks with a faint Scottish accent, a remnant of a childhood she has never fully cast aside. She has a self-deprecating sense of humour - and the tendency to sometimes speak before she thinks.
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien
Perhaps this is the quote that best portrays Sansa in all her sweet glory. She has no use for greed or ambition - she has seen what bitter fruit it bears, and wishes never to have the dubious pleasure of partaking in the nectar herself. She does not blame those who do; they are the masters of their own vessels, after all. While the rest might be jockeying for position, trying to impress with flashy kills and heroic stunts - Sansa is the girl you go to for some down time and a steady, quiet presence who does not judge.
However, that is not to say that she is meek or cowed. While the girl is unabashedly submissive to those of more dominant characteristics, it should not be confused with willingness to blindly follow orders. She is no little mouse to jump at every shadow and every rustle in the bushes - if need be, aggressors will find her little teeth bared at them in bold defiance, her four legs balanced evenly upon the ground; a serpent posed to strike. The world does not owe her a living, she has discovered - and despite her gentle demeanor, Sansa is not quite ready to bite the dust, thank you. But it is a last resort; this dove prefers speech to fight. She will try to diffuse the situation by any means possible, try to quietly counsel a separate recourse - even if it is to her own detriment.
A healer by trade, Sansa takes her role in life seriously. She does not differentiate between those who deserve healing and those who do not - the dove does not like to play God. She will heal all those who are in need of her help with the determination of a thousand burning suns. She cares, perhaps more than what is necessary - Sansa is willing to go above and beyond the call of duty, and sometimes, she has been accused of quietly mothering those whom she has taken under her wing. She likes to show her affection with soft nudges and cuddles - and mostly, her patients will be her receivers as well.
In truth, her quietness might stem from her history with bullying. When approached, Sansa is often shy, but welcoming - sometimes, it almost appears as though she is hard pressed to accept that others are willing to be in her company. But she has mostly healed from the events of her childhood; these days, she is able to take what others say with a large pinch of salt. What Sansa craves, more than anything, is acceptance. And this thus poses a dilemma: Sansa is fiercely loyal to those who are her superiors. This, combined with her desire to be accepted and to please, might contradict her gentle nature - if she were ordered to poison another, what would she do?
She doesn't yet know, and she hopes she will never have to find out.
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