Vedottir

Who

• Who?

  Broad shoulders, strong arms. The arms of a carpenter, in fact, though her scars have seen crueler opponents than knotty pine. She's about 35 years old, or whatever her people's equivalent is.
  
  Species
  Half gryffe, half furre. That comes out to something like three parts grey catwoman, one part red-tailed hawk. ...Huge red-tailed hawk.
  
  5'8"
  Wings. Retractable claws (at least on her remaining fingers and toes).
  Feather-tipped ears, a cat's eyes, the tail feathers of a hawk.
  
  

  Irrelevant Details

  
  She has a bird's lungs, which means her lung muscles compress her lungs, instead of expanding them. This gives her a lot of power for making noise (which she rarely uses), but mainly aids in flying. Even apart from her wings and tail, her back is covered in feathers, which get smaller and more downy as they circle around her hips. The upper halves of her legs are feathered, too, but the bottom halves are distinctly cat-like.
  She is a little far-sighted: she hates reading and does well at archery. She does a great deal of her most intricate carving without looking at what she's doing. It's a very personal challenge.

  
  Style
  In general, she looks like someone who can take care of herself... but does a poor job of it. On the "wealthy" spectrum, she lands right smack dab on "frugal".
  Finding clothes is a pain in the ass, with those wings and that tail. She wears leather armor, though how much changes daily depending on her circumstances and which side of the Possessed By Inspiration bed she woke up on. Her hair is long, gathered into beads and braids and tied off behind her back when she's working. Some of her most prized possessions are carefully woven festival clothes, but these rarely make an appearance in normal circumstances. In summer months, her 'boots' are really mostly just leather tied on beneath the knee.

• Description

  A warrior and a whittler, missing three fingers and half of one eyebrow. Maybe not a very good warrior. Her armor is indifferent. Her laugh is infectious. Her eyes are a dreamer's green: forgetful, deferential. Leather cords bind her sleeves to scarred arms ropy with muscle, and she isn't shy about the evidently storied past of her boots. They're as scuffed and weatherworn as her warm smile, used hard but always put up dry. Her round face, neither young nor pretty, seems shaped by a hand with more enthusiasm than skill, and has a weak chin. She has the careless kindness of someone who has been loved well, but that kindness has been carved out of discipline and silence. Half-gryffe, with broad, strong wings and feathers sprinkled through her fur.

• Music