Villager: Christian Lark
Bob
9
Villager Info
ID: #150913
Name: Christian Lark
Gender: Female
Location: Quetzal Palace
Born 9 years, 4 months ago
Career: Animal Husbandry
Owner: Aanubius
Species: Mustelid
Color: Chocolate
Buffs:House: House has been destroyed.
Career (View All)
Paintie
Christian Lark no longer has a house! They will be unable to work. Please replace the house or move Christian Lark into a FC slot.
About
Paintie by transparentChaos
I never knew my parents. I didn't even know what their faces looked like. Don't know what happened to them, don't know their names, and don’t know my own true name. Basically; I know fuck all. All I know is that I'm lucky to be alive. I was left in the woods, a few weeks old, all by myself. Some Furs who had been out hunting had heard my cries and tracked me down, taking me back to their camp, where I soon became a permanent addition.
I was raised by a group of grumpy, rough, coarse, no-mannered men. A band of thieves, exiles, rogues, pickpockets, bandits and mercenaries. I lost my real parents, but I gained a bunch of new fathers, uncles and brothers, all whom loved me dearly... Albeit overprotectively. They were lovely. The only problem I had was... Well... They treated me like a girl! I mean, I know I /am/ one. But they took it a step too far! Treating me like I was a piece of fine China that would break at the slightest touch. It wouldn't be bad if a handful treated me like that, I guess. But this was EVERYONE. Well... Everyone except for Aauron, the Sabertooth.
A strong spirited, man of steel. He didn't take shit from no one, and treated everyone equally... Well, with equal disdain. Even me! He treated me like one of the fellows, and for that, I was grateful. He kept to himself most of the time, and was rather silent (unless you got a few beers into him, of course!) However, he could silence a crowd with a mere cough. When Aauron spoke, EVERYONE listened. Everyone respected him. He acted like he didn't care; acted like the bastards he kept company with were just a thorn in his side. But that was a lie; he cared for them a lot. They were like brothers to him. It was just that no one had managed to capture his full trust and respect, not yet. While everyone else was treating me like a cute little kitten, not allowing me to get my paws dirty, he was busy dumping armfuls of blades in my hands asking me to help him sharpen them. Although we sat in silence while doing these chores he gave me, it wasn't an awkward silence, and he was teaching me a great deal, even though he hardly spoke!
A few more years down the line, Aauron and I had become very close. I thought of him as a father, and he thought of me as his daughter. We shared a close bond that neither of us shared with the rest of the band. He taught me how to fight, and how to use a rare metal that was controlled by sound as a weapon. He preferred to shape the metal into swords, whereas I, on the other hand, preferred the slimmer pieces, sharpening the tips of the metal so it resembled an arrow. And now, you see folks, this is how I earned my last name - Lark. The song bird. Using these metallic arrows, controlled only by me whistling. I picked up quite a reputation for myself! Nobody dared to cross paths with me or my family.
I never knew my parents. I didn't even know what their faces looked like. Don't know what happened to them, don't know their names, and don’t know my own true name. Basically; I know fuck all. All I know is that I'm lucky to be alive. I was left in the woods, a few weeks old, all by myself. Some Furs who had been out hunting had heard my cries and tracked me down, taking me back to their camp, where I soon became a permanent addition.
I was raised by a group of grumpy, rough, coarse, no-mannered men. A band of thieves, exiles, rogues, pickpockets, bandits and mercenaries. I lost my real parents, but I gained a bunch of new fathers, uncles and brothers, all whom loved me dearly... Albeit overprotectively. They were lovely. The only problem I had was... Well... They treated me like a girl! I mean, I know I /am/ one. But they took it a step too far! Treating me like I was a piece of fine China that would break at the slightest touch. It wouldn't be bad if a handful treated me like that, I guess. But this was EVERYONE. Well... Everyone except for Aauron, the Sabertooth.
A strong spirited, man of steel. He didn't take shit from no one, and treated everyone equally... Well, with equal disdain. Even me! He treated me like one of the fellows, and for that, I was grateful. He kept to himself most of the time, and was rather silent (unless you got a few beers into him, of course!) However, he could silence a crowd with a mere cough. When Aauron spoke, EVERYONE listened. Everyone respected him. He acted like he didn't care; acted like the bastards he kept company with were just a thorn in his side. But that was a lie; he cared for them a lot. They were like brothers to him. It was just that no one had managed to capture his full trust and respect, not yet. While everyone else was treating me like a cute little kitten, not allowing me to get my paws dirty, he was busy dumping armfuls of blades in my hands asking me to help him sharpen them. Although we sat in silence while doing these chores he gave me, it wasn't an awkward silence, and he was teaching me a great deal, even though he hardly spoke!
A few more years down the line, Aauron and I had become very close. I thought of him as a father, and he thought of me as his daughter. We shared a close bond that neither of us shared with the rest of the band. He taught me how to fight, and how to use a rare metal that was controlled by sound as a weapon. He preferred to shape the metal into swords, whereas I, on the other hand, preferred the slimmer pieces, sharpening the tips of the metal so it resembled an arrow. And now, you see folks, this is how I earned my last name - Lark. The song bird. Using these metallic arrows, controlled only by me whistling. I picked up quite a reputation for myself! Nobody dared to cross paths with me or my family.
I love his lil' earrings