Character Name: Maakor Fenn
Character Age: 19
Character Species: Human-like (Werewolf!) (He even has a license, because he’s a good boy!)
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Green
Maakor was raised in a small, coastal town, alongside his siblings on his family’s little ranch tucked away on the uplands surrounding the harbor. His bedroom window opened to a perfect view of the sea, but even that couldn’t match the view of it from up on the moors, where he’d take the sheep to graze as often as he could, just so he would watch the ocean without his window, without the path to their house, without the town, without anything but the green grass and the sky to accent it. There was a specific spot, with the comfiest boulder that he loved to sit on and write little scribbles of poetry or stories or make little drawings. He could spend days there, just admiring the view, but, of course, there’s always work to do, and family to spend time with.
In his free time, he’d often play swords with his brother, because neither of them were ever really any good, and they both knew they had no real desire to ever hurt anything, and their games kept them from getting into too much mischief of the sort that isn't usual for them. He’d study plants with his older sister, though more for an excuse to know what’s best for making ink or which flowers are prettiest than any purpose she’d be interested in, though it’s impossible to avoid anything she would want you to know, and he was never really trying to, anyway. He’d play pretend with his little sister, being whatever knight or villain or damsel in distress she’d need for whatever story she’d be in the middle of telling. He’d stretch his legs and don his fur and run to the ocean and back, perhaps with a quick break for a swim. He’d fish and sometimes even catch enough that his father can cook them for dinner, with some assistance, of course. He’d help his mother in the garden and tell her his poetry. He’d trade chores with his siblings, always excited for the days he got to go into town outside of his time off, and even if he was, technically, supposed to be working, he’d always take a few extra moments here and there to listen to a sailor’s tale, or ask where a traveler’s favorite place was, and in which season it’s the absolute best, for, you know, just in case he does ever get to visit. He’d love so much to go, but how could he just leave his family?
The answer came without a choice to follow it. It wasn’t even a particularly unique answer. Kind of… generic, really. Just a regular old natural disaster. One he should have been better prepared for, one he shouldn't have taken a risk for. He’d even been on his way home, but he couldn't quite beat the rain, or flash flood that swept him away. Still, he got lucky.
He woke up in an unfamiliar place, with only a knot on his head and a few scrapes here and there, but uncertain of which direction the water had even brought him from, and never more grateful of how well waterproofed his box of inks and pens is, though the notebook beside it in his bag is ruined.
Well. The first step is.. Figure out where he is, right? He can do that. Just gotta find a town and hope then get back home. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? Except the town he finds hasn’t ever heard of his, and he’s starting to get the feeling of something a little more magical than just a simple flash flood might be going on. But he’ll get it all figured out, eventually. Perhaps he’ll even have an exciting story to tell, by the time he gets home!
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