Kara Windsong

Your golden hair still hangs too long off your head, meant to be cut to the shoulder for your right you hid it pleating it and braiding the rest. You show it now in typical flagrance of the rules.

The old men and woman scowl as they pas you the robes and equipment they always give someone leaving the village but your piecing blue gaze is a match for any of them.

"Now child, I know how sharp your wits are, and many of the young men fawned over you but your arrogance won't always be worth the price you will pay over it. Good looks won't get you everything" your father warns you holding a sharp spear and pressing it into your grasp as he speaks. Worried about you ever since your large breasts came in you smile. He always talks like this, but no need to worry you had all those boys in their place at 16 the world out side the mountains won't be any different.

You kiss him on the cheek and hug tight before marching off, you may miss him later but right now the stifling village is the last place you want to spend another second in.

Marching towards the canyon exit that will lead you to the mountain paths and eventually the highways and cities, you take a look at what you have on hand.

Food for 2 weeks enough to reach Middelhime the nearest town. 18 copper coins. A spear. You traveling garb and your two sets of 'finer clothing' but by city standards you expect they might be rags.

At by mid day you are a quarter of they day down the mountain when you hear a howl.