The story and bio of my character Alathiel, please feel free to read and review. Oh if you would like to contact me ingame, please feel free to whisper me or PM me here. I'm sure we can set something up, my IN is Alathiel on Reni, And Nessi on Gov. Hope you like it, fully story is after the profile.
- Character Name: Alathiel Finnhalth
- Nicknames / Aliases: From time to time she can be call Ali, but only by close friends. The name causes her cheeks to blush if uttered by strangers.
- Birth Date: Spring 15th
- Apparent Age: 18
- True Age: Though she looks younger, Ali is really 20 years old.
- Place of Birth: The western elven lands, the Forests of Waynnbrook
- Residence: From now she lives in a rather small one room wooden home just outside the grand city.
- Race: Elvish
- Class: Druid
- Height: Five feet four inches
- Weight: 103lbs
- Measurements: "How crude! To ask a female such a question!" Shes rather busty.
- Clothing Sizes / Styles: Ali enjoys wearing dresses or robes of soft cotton or silk. She hardly wears pants, but if she must. . .
- Weapons of Choice: A wand, or staff. Shields are ever so heavy for her small arms though.
- Hair Color: A light blond nearly white in tint.
- Hair Length: Her hair is cut rather strangely, its chopped for bangs and pulled long in the back.
- Eye Color: Light green
- Handedness : Shes right handed like most, but it hardly matters with a staff.
- Jewelry: Hardly wears any of it, form time to time a ring or necklace.
- Tattoos: Like most elves she had her light glowing birth patterns around her arms legs and back.
- General Appearance: Shes rather thin, at times she look as though she could break, her waist is pinched tight and her chest is a bit to large for its own good. All at all shes not the worst creature to look at. She likes to think she is at least 'pretty'
- Relationship with Family: "I would rather not speak of it..."
- Key Family / Relatives: She has a great grandmother in the large city, but other then that. . .
- Relationship with Friends: Being so shy she hardly makes friends well, and moving from place to place for study makes it hard to keep in touch.
- Important Friends:
- Key Enemies: She can not stand the creatures that attacked her home.
- Special Abilities: Ali is a rather gifted healer, she learned the skills from her mother long ago.
- Educational History: Like any good elf, she attended 15 years of schooling before setting off into the world, mostly taught by her mother though she can read and write rather well.
- Occupation: She works now as a door healer, helping anyone she can.
- Skills: Shes a nifty little cook, one must be when you live outside.
- Mental State: Stable, as long as there are no flash backs
- Likes: Roseweat flowers, Honny dew lemon, Small rabbits, Butter beers, Grilled cod, sweet tea.
- Dislikes: Large bugs, thunder, roasted pork, Mill seed.
- Phobias / Fears: Water, she can hardly swim and fears death. Large fires, another above a camp.
- Bad Habits / Vices: When nervous she tend to ramble to much, her cheeks flush a bring red to often and her temper gets the best of her at times. She also bites her thumb.
- Quirks: Her idea of flirting is lightly tugging her hair, it hardly works.
- Best Qualities: Her eyes seem to shine in the night. Men would say her breasts....
- Worst Qualities: Her temper, when she loses it, beware.
- Childhood Experiences: She had a lovey child hood, she made many friends and was well liked by the elders.
- Teenage Experiences: She became a bit withdrawn in her studies of healing.
- Adult Experiences: Drawing into her shell fully at the death of her family.
- Sexual Background: "N-n-none!"
- Hobbies: She collects different types of herbs
- Favorites: Pretty robes
- Pets: A small fairy follows her from time to time. She has yet to name it
- Personal Goals: "To find him. . ."
- Professional Goals: To pass the grand healing elders
- Morality / Ethics: She believe in her god and goddess, don't all elves?
- Style of Speech: She is well spoken, speaking rather highly and proper at all times.
- Commonly Used Words: "Ah!" "Oh dear" "Sorry" "Not at all" "Hush now" "Rest" It will help" "Worry not" "My!" "Please..enough"
- Phrase: "A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Ú or le a ú or ni" (The shadow will not keep you my friend)
- Lies Told: ". . ."
- Other Important details: Ali has little interactions with others, and therefore has little experence with men and will be rather blind to the ways of 'flirting' so to speak and almost finds it silly. Her trickster side stuck with her since she was a child and still likes to pull pranks when ever she can, she really is a fun loving girl, its just hard for her to open up to anyone but Mahairi, though a cat isn't the best conversation starter. Never ask Ali to read, she is ever selfconsius about that fact that she can't read anything more then a map or a tracking chart. Her family was simple, her father never learned to read and her mother knew very little of it but taught her girls as much as she could. And Ali's family is a very touchy subject, she grew up with just her family to lean on, her sister was her ownly friend besides her parents. Her mother held her when the boys made fun of her, her father patches her scraps when she fell chasing after a rabbit. He taught her how to hold her first bow and her mother taught her how to cook a stew for the road. Even her sister had somthing to teach her. Ever since she lost them she refuses to talk much of them besides 'my father taught me' or 'my mother used to say. . ' Her job keeps her on the go which she enjoys but somtimes has a hard time killing and becomes very ditant more then normal after every job and tends to ask forgivness from Balthazar though she is not really the most spiritual human around. That was more her mothers area. As a last point, Ali looks little like a fighter. She is rather girlish looking, large eye, blushing cheeks and a small face and body she looks more like a young villege girl. Just don't tell her so. The scar that covers and shuts Alis right eye is believed to have come from her run though the burning woods after the death of her father. She speaks so little of it and only tells that it stands as a reminder of her loss.
Ali was born in the mid-season of spring, to a small Luxon family after they settled by the cost of North Kryta Province. Her father, a hunter, her mother a simple healer much like the other women in the clan. At a young age Ali dreamed of being a ranger like her father though she spend most of her time helping her mother in the small feilds or pitching tents in the newly setteled areas. Though she was a bit of a trickster and not the brightest of the young girls. She more often then not filled a weaving basket with water rather then a pot, or emptied chared fire wood into the food tents, all of which she was scolded for rather harshly by the other women of the tribe. Her mother however thought her aticks where rather amusing, being the kind creature she was she always lent a gental voice to her young daughter and helped her fix her mistakes. Though the kind hand of her mother did not stunt the boyish side of the child. Ali was found playing tricks on the other girls, putting lizards in there shoes or covering the bottom of their baskets with clay or mud, laughing and pointing when their heads would be covered with muck when they returned to the settlment. Her mother was not so kind in her punishments when she played tricks on adults though.
The girls father always had a rather soft spot for his daughter, though he was a seasond hunter and a rather hard man to others in the family he always had time to give his daughter a hug or to craft her a small bow and wooden stick arrows for her play. This was the cause of Ali's wish to become just like him, a grand hunter who brought food and life to her people. She dreamed of running though the wood with a loyal pet, camping on her own and being able to fend for herself. She spent her free time far away from the tents and feilds palying with the small creatures of the forest or trailing her father to the rivers as he taught her how to hold a long bow, or how to shave an arrow. The other women of her people did not strongly approve of a young girl being taught the ways of a man, yet little Ali showed great promise as a hunter and so his father taught her with gusto.
~~~
"Its just not right" Althena whispered softy as she started to sew a small patch onto her husbans leather top once again, adding to the already slightly off colored knitting work she had done in the past. The man couldn't suck it up and simply buy a new top and be done with it. Her fingers slowly ran over the small, unevan stiching her daughter had made years ago when she tried to take up stiching on the request of the other females of the clan. The the colors did not match, the seam was ripped in a few places and small drops of dark dried blood stained the threads. A smile crossed the young womens thin lips, she did understand. Theon had so many good times in that top, training his daughter was one of them. She remember the way she burried her little face in the furs on the shoulders when she was sleepy, or cried into the tails that hung from the back when the boys picked on her.
"Hm?" Her husband turned, his large hand running smoothly down his newly shaved bow that was much to small for him. Another for Ali she guessed. "What isn't?"
Althena snapped from her thought, the smile fading from her lips to a more stern look. "She's a girl, you know how they talk. . ." She faded slightly, remember all the times the women by the stream whispered behind her back of her daughter. How thier own children picked on her, though she did start it from time to time with her pranks. But she was just a child. "She should be helping in the feilds like the rest of us." Althena placed the top down on the table with a hard thud. Theon looked up, his own face blank in deep thought. "She enjoys-" " I know she dose! I did once remember?" He simply nodded, remember when they where children and she used to steal his bow and take aim at trees and rocks. He taught her how to track animals, hunt small game and even camp in the woods until she needed to start acting her age, until they grew up.
Theon placed the bow on the table, the small carvings of little animals at the bend where still covered in a fine layer of dust. The tight string sat wound next to it. His long stride made it easy to reach is distrat wife. Large arms wrapped around her shoulders, his calased fingers brushed a bit of hair from her face, the same light red has it little girls yet she held his curls not her mothers. "Shes so young, she can't handle what they say to her." She whispered into his broad chest. Tears slowly spilling from her eyes.
"My little ranger? Come now, she had the heart of a Melandru. She loves the bow, the wood, the animals. To take that away...well that would just be cruel" Theon smiled, placing his chin on his small wifes head. Thinking of his little girl always made him smile.
"I know. . .and she is not prone to the ways of sewing that for sure." Althena laughed, picking up his top and handing it to him, the ugly stich raising high from the leather. Theon ran his finger down the thread with a grin. "It dose the job, at least she is a better shot." They both laughed and turned as the little read head came running into the small wooden home, they had taking camp in an abandoned villege, she skipped around the few beams of light that flitered through the small holes in the straw roof. Her tiny hand held a very small bow made of bamboo and a bit of cotton strig.
"Papa! Papa!, I caught a wabbi!" She gigled holding up the small stuffed rabbit with the missing an ear and one button eye. A small wooden dull tipped arrow stich to its chest. The leaf vane flutting softly as she waved it about. Theon rushed forward and scooped the small child into his arms. "Oh thats my little ranger, did he put up a fight?" "Sure did papa! I tracked him all the way to the crows nest." She quipped as she tossed her into the air catching her again. Althena smiled and watched the two of the play. Leaning back agains the small, slightly off table before her daughter wiggled free from her fathers arms to show her prize. "Mama look!" She wave the small stuffed animal. Althena took the small creature and held it up, placing a hand on her chin.
"Hm....I do believe he will make a fine stew tonight." She looked back to her husband how held up a small sack of his own game from the morning. "Really?" She gasped, stomping her little feet so excited. Turning quickly to her pa who hide the bag behind his back, rocking back and forth grinning with a nod. "Mhm, how about you go out and find some berries and herbs with papa and I'll start the fire?" "Ya ya okay!" She grabbed her little arrow from the bunnies chest, a bit of stuffing falling to the ground, just another sewing fix. Althena was sure her daughter would cry for her bunny tonight before bed. "In case a bear tries to get daddy, I'll stop it! Come on papa!" She grabed hold of his finger and pulled him along, bent over out the door. "Alright baby alright. We'll be home soon. Are you goin'a get that bad bear for daddy?" "Ya! I'll be like pow bam!" Althena smiled and reached for the small sack, listening to there laughes as they ran to the wood.
~~~~
When Ali was around the age of fifteen her mother gave birth to a young baby girl, making Ali a older sister. Before that time Ali's people have traviled and settled more then seven times each year since her birth. Making Ali a seasoned traviler. She had seen large cities and small fishing villeges. She wore lovely silks to plain cotten dresses. She had even tired different types of spicy meats or bitter nuts. Moving from place to place was a way of life for her, and though her people where poor, her father brought in extra money by hunting not only aminals but bandits that seemed to plage the lands. It
It was no untill Alis father started his work on the side that Ali wanted to not only protect her family, but all thoughs around her. She once again learned from her father, how to take down a creature larger then her, prehaps faster aswell. For a time the only thing Ali was able to kill was a small rabbit or bird, as long as it sat still on the ground she was able to hit a clean mark. But a moving target was still a bit tricky for her. When her family settled in the Regent Valley to raise there newest daughter in a quiet setting until she was old enough to travil with the rest of the clans. As such Ali was able to walk to the close by city.
Though city life never really suited the young girl, she enjoyed more of a wildnress life, the kind she had known since she was a child. And surely she did stick out like a sour thumb. The Luxon clan was never really highly reagaded by others for years, and though she was young still that did not stop well knowing adults from casting cruel glares or refusing to bater with her in the markets. Ali spend most of her half hearted days in the city trying to trade skins for arrows yet having little luck. She was the end of many jokes or pranks by young noble children, some going so far as to dump dirty water over her head from a second level or snap her small bow in half to make some point. From there the young girl became distant from anyone outside of her own family. She had little friends from her tribe due to her odd tomboish persoan so most of her childhood was spend with her father and from time to time her mother, when she was not busy with her sister Calthia.
~~~
"Your her big sister Ali, you must take her along."
"But mother.....!" The teen whinned looking over the little girl who sat playing with a small wooden doll. "All she wants to do is play dress up. I was going to hunt with father today.'
"Well it can wait." Her mother scolded, hanging a few cloths on the line. Her youngest ran forward and started to run around the white blanket, humming. She was so different from her hard hunting sister. Ali huffed and crossed her arms, her bow held tight against her chest as her arrows dropped to the floor. "Come on brat. . .lets go....pick some flower. . ." Clathia looked up, her lower lip whimpering her mother knowing just what was about to happen.
"Maaaaaammaaaaaa!" Calthia screamed, dropping to the floor holding her little hands over her eyes breaking out into a high pitched sob. "She called brat! Brat!" She screamed, pointing to a rather annoyed Ali."
"Well you are." Ali teased, sticking her tongue out and grabbing her arrows. "I don't have time to take brats hunting with father." Her mother gave her a look before dropping the basket and scooping her little daughter up. Trying hard to hush her.
"You two. . ."
~~~
As she grew, Ali grew to be tolirated by the people of the city. Her family decided to stay in The Regent Valley, joining different grouped of there clan as they pasted and stopping at the valleys border. Ali took up the join of hunting for her family as her father grew older, and her young sister took up harvesting with her mother being a rather girlish female she felt her older sister was foolish for acting in such a way and always troubled her when she left, though enver seemed to complain when she brought home food. Ali also took up the task of her fathers second hunting jobs. Hunting down small groups of Char when they started to become troublesome. Taking care of groups of monsters of wild animals and from time to time grew to take down bandits which helped the people of the city respect Ali, though not all truely respecting her and her people. Ali hardly seemed to mind.
At the age of nineteen Ali started her full training with her fathers close hunting friend Jerrel who taught her how to tame and hunt with her very own creature. She picked the beast that her father had hunted with. A Melandru Stalker. She had been raised around the creatures from the time she was a young girl and the cats where always fearsome in battle, protecting her father from the largest of bears, but clam and loving around her clan and the humans in cities and villeges. Other then bandits. . . Ali named her new pet Mahairi after one of her only childhood friend whos family stayed with the main clan rather then settling with. Mahairi was a rather kind girl who was a bit weak but did enjoy watching Ali during target pratice or saw her off when she joined her father but never liked the larger cities. Ali's pet never really enjoyed the cities eather and liked to wait by the gate, keeping busy by catching small mice or chasing away monsters that wandered to close. Maybe playing the a passing child. But without fail, she would come running once passed the gates of the city back into the wilderness.
~~~
"She's beautiful" The young female ranger whispered, peeking through the braches of the bush she was crouched in. Her teacher Jerrel nodded yet glupped softly as he watched the rather angry looking Melandru Stalker his and snap at another cat, swipping its large claws at its larger yet still frightened counterpart as it stalked around a bit of pig meat. The small cat lunged quickly at the larger on, biting hard into ins neck causing the creature to screech loudly trying to fling the little one off.
"Yes. . .and strong." Jerrel looked behind him for a moment, leaning on his bow. The creatures at his front where to ingadged with each other to notice them luckly. A very small, young looking Melandru was rolling in a bit of dust by a tree. It sniffed the air and looked there way but didn't seem to mind them. It was most likely a young one from an already tamed pet set free for another ranger to catch.
"Ali, how of this one? You just want to slowly. . .Ali? Ali!" He whispered rather loudly as he watched a slightly hunched Ali slowly stalk inbetween the first of the to beasts. Her waved his arms trying to get her attation without startling the cats or cause there distraction to falter. The smaller cat clawed at the largers shoulder, holding onto its neck as it rode its back, flinging high in the air until it knew the opponent had given up and start a retreat. She hissed and stalked back and forth for a moment, licking a bit of blood from its jaw before turning, becoming rather startled by the young hunter. It hunched and hissed at her as she slowly held her hand out, filled with bloody meat.
"Easy girl . . . easy" She inched closer, causing the cat to take a step back, moving closer to its own kill. Its shoulders seemed to slowly relax yet its hissing persisted. Dearing, Ali took another step her second hand rasing as she muttered her spell. Eyes locking with the beast. The cats eyes locked against hers as it slowly rose from a pounce and started to sway with her hands, taking slow normal steps into her direction. It hissed a few times before returning to its trance. Jerrel stayed slient as he watched the young girl work. Her father was going to kill him but she seemed to be doing rather well. To calm and tame such an angry creature was quite a talent. The beast stoped for a moment, just inches from her hand, sniffing the meat in her hand before grabbing it and chomping hair to swollow it in one go. It licked its chops before turning again to Ali, it sniffed again and pounced.
"Ali!" Jerrel rushed forward, cocking his bow ready to take aim at the beast, only to notice that the cat was not mawing the young girl, but licking her face in a rather friendly manner. He sighed and lowered the arrow, walking forward earning himself a hiss as the cat jerked up, ready to protect its new master. Ali hushed her and slowly screached behind her round ears. "What shall you call her?" Jerrel ask, looking over the fine beast. She was indeed a nice looking cat, if not small.
She thought a moment, looking over the cat. "Mahairi."
~~~
Ali kept her own self busy by doing tasks for others and did so until she decided to learn the ways of a warrior. Though she still loved her bow and was a great marker she still needed to skill with at least a dagger to turly defend herself. She became slightly abled with a blade and after weaking a target from a distance she would be ready for close combat if the creature did not drop. She was in no way a master and understood as such. She always tired to be humble when she spoke of her skills with any kind of blade. Her thin arms made it nearly impossable to carry a hammer or axe but she tired none the less. It was her skill are what caught the eye of the prince. And during the Searing, when the Charr started to attack from the caves, Ali was picked to lead a small group to bring the creatures leader to an end. aided by the prince himself Ali helped fight back untill The Charr attacked with full force using burning crystals to bring the great wall of the city down. In the caous Ali left to find her family in the woodlands. It was only after the dust settled that Ali found her home and family burnt to the ground, her belonging ranscaked and her father struck down. Her mother and sister where no where to be found but to assume they where alive was rather foolish. Ali could do little but clean up the borken peices of her once simple life, burry her father in the forest where he hoped to be in his passing and move on. She because quiet and distant, having little money, friends and no family she could contact she became a Mercenary. Going after mostly the rich who she believe did little in the battle and hardly helpped rebuild what was left of the cities life. She grew a slightly distrust that could have started when she was younger. But only if there really is a reason, it just dosn't have to be as good as the others.
~~~
"Father!" Ali yelled, rushing to her still fathers side, his arrows lay close to his lifeless body though his bow was missing. Ali pulled her father up by his shoulder, shaking him slightly being pulling him close to her chest, crying over his shoulder. "Father. . ." She whispered, tears splashing agains the soot covered dirt bellow. Her own body trembled as she sobs became louder. Mahairi paces back and forth, lowering at the sound of her masters cries. Her ears laying flat against her head as she whimpered softly yet keeping an eye on the burning woods around them.
Ali took a moment to glance around her. Knowing full when that her father was gone, his chest no longer rising and falling with the heavey breath he was prone to in his old age. The forest around her was burning, the small hut they had made there home still a blaze, most likley the cause of the devstation the trees now faced. The only clear path out of the flame was the riverway they had taken to get here. She could not see her mother, her sister, Jerrel, anyone. It was spring, he always came to try some of mothers spring rabbit stews every night. through blurry eyes she saw the large table, chairs throws and over turned, the basket filled with clay dishes toppled over, most wear was broken on the dirt. She could see the visions of there fourms, father and Jerrel laughing and drinking, mother bouncing little Calthia on her knee. She loved to slirp down the meaty soup begging for more when her bowl was empty.
To her left was the small little pound the stream fed, Clathia would throw bread crums to the small tadpols and Mahairi would catch fish as a snack between meals. It was there her mother bathed the babies, more so Ali when she would roll int he mud or get overed with horse dung from the cities. Even father somtimes when he was overed with strider blood. She looke dby her knees, letting her father lay back against the dirt, his graying hair sprayed out below him. Clathia's doll sat at her feet, the arm torn roughtly from its wooden body, the face splattered with small splashed of blood. Ali hitched softly as she held the doll. Her fingers holding so tight they started to blister with the heat. The sounds over the stingers as her father called them, screeching as they ran though the woods, some caught on fire she was sure as she watched their flat bodies running quickl though the falling braches.
"Mother....Mother?!" She yelled, turning quickly to the house, the roof slowly started to cave as Mahairi growled and headed into the water, knowing there was at least slightly safer. The ranger dashed to the doorway, yelping as he hand gripped a peice of still burning wood. She retrached and held her hand looking into the smokey threshold. The cots where set ablaze. The fire bit was crumbling and the table legs gave way under the weight of the roof bits, the beams pressing hard on the wooden planks as clay pots and glass fell to the floor. The small weved basked ready for another child was flipped, the blankets thrown from the bedding slowly starting to burn. She could smell burning hair, the rotten stink of the smoke that rose from it but she heard no struggled. She looked to the far end of the house, a huddle of flaming blankets lay hunched against the wall, a small burnt arm falling flat against the ground.
Ali retrached again, stummbling back holding her unchard hand against her gasping mouth, her head shaking slowly before she scrambled away from the burning hut back to her father lifeless body. She called for her beast, Mahairi moved from the safty of the water and bent low near her as Ali hosited her father onto her strong back. As he rolled she noticed the large gash from a dull blade deep into his spine, his body jerked and sputted more lifeless blood onto Mahairi's fur. The cat paied no mind as tired bits of her fathers leather around her chest and hind legs, his own legs dragging behind on the dirt floor. Ali shooed her on and quickly followed. Placing a hand on her father shoulder. "I shall not leave you here father. . ." she turned to see the last of the roof give way on the house, chocking back a sob as she quickly turned, grabbing a small bag at the edge of the water. She moved Mahairi along as she crouched in the water, talking one last look at the small clearing before racing off, holding tightly to the disgarded bag the charr seemed to have ignored or dropped before departing. Her fingers felt the small animal teeth her father was collocting for what ever reason, he told her it was a suprise the day before.
Fighting back more tears, as she gritted her teeth, pushing on past the flames back into the safe zone where a few huttled city folk and guards watched there town and forests burn. Children and wemon were crying, men cursing the Charr and guards fighting back a few that still remaind. Ali took a seat alone, a guard took her father, shaking his head and promising her that he would be in good hands. his body was taken to a large mat that others lay on, just as lifeless as his own body. Mahairi circled for a moment beofre settleing her head in her masters lap as she opened the small leather pouch, removing a small tooth and bone necklace, each tooth carved a small animal paw or sign, some said daughter, others said love, the middle said proud.
Tears once again flowed back her long eyelashes, her round cheeks glrowing bright red with heat. To her left a large man dressed in fine clothing was yelling at a guard, shouting somthing about his gold needing safty over children who where huddled by a small unburning tree trunk. Her eyes narrowed as she cluched the teeth tightly in her hand, shoving the bag into her own pack she stromed over to the man who kept on yelling regadless of her pressence.
"And another thing! This soot! Do somthing about it!" He yelled, his large belly shaking with each wave of his chubby arm. Ali clenched her fist tightly, before learching forward shoving the man back into the soot covered ground. He gasped as he hit hard, his body nearly bouncing. "You stupid chubby wench! The children are more important then your stupid money you big, ugly-' A pair of hands quickly closed around her shoulders, pulling her back as she started kicking and screaming. Another large cat stood infront of Mahairi as she learched forward to help her master.
"Easy Ali. . .its going to be alright. . .' the soothing voice of Jerrel calmed her slightly as she sank her her knees, far away from the fat, grubby man she was so intent to kill a moment ago. She did not turn to face him or his pet that kept Mahairi in check yet simply sobbed into her hands, the blaze burning around her causing her skin to nearly bun with the heat of the air. Her arms wrapped tightly around her trembling fourm as Jerrel could to little but rub her back, his face turned to his life long friend, fighting his own tears from spilling.
~~~
Ali is a rather kind girl now, and always enjoys lending a helping had, her wonderful pet and friend died of age, and her hunting skills became rusty and old with time, she took on learning the healing arts taught to her by her loving mother. She knew everything fro which small pants could help or hurt, to what flowers made the best teas. Over time picking up a bow became too painful for Alathiel and she withdrew from hunting altogether. Still with her mistrust of the wealthy she can be a bit bitter to those who think themselves higher then her. Her dream remains the same though, to protect all thoughs she can, so no family must go though what had happened to her as a child, or as an adult. Now at the age of twinty she is stricing for that dream, though she understands she can't do it alone.
