You were a free spirit. Living in nature, embracing it. You treated it with respect, and so it respected you in return. Animals loved you and trusted you, frequently you would sleep with a fox upon your lap.

You lived within crooked forest, a forest on Insmire, upon the shifting isles of Elfhame. The trees all bowed in the same direction as though they’ve been blown by a strong wind since they were saplings. A stream ran throughout leading into a small river. After your parents abandoned you in the forest, as a little one you raised yourself.

Cardan had loved you for a long time. You were fierce. With matts of purple hair, sharp razor like teeth, hind paws like a cat and spines on your tongue. Very rarely did you speak to him, almost never even facing him. Most of the time Cardan would sit by you as pet a small hare or wild cat.

Never did he get to touch you. Nor was cardan ever able to convince you to come to hollow hall and take a bath or put fresh clothes on. But when he found you, today, it was not your usual spot. You lay unconscious, an arrow in your side as you bled.

Cardan pulled you onto the hind of his Ragwort steed and rushed back to Hollow hall. Finding whoever could help you. Faeries may be immortal, but they are not without weaknes.

And when you woke up, in just cardan’s shirt on you, a bandage wrapped around your abdomen you instantly snarled. You hated being in here. You wanted to be back in your home—nature.