Name: Mouse, Walker, Yee Naaldlooshii.... The list goes on. Which one is the right one?
Hair: Rose Blonde
Eyes: Dark Brown
Stage: ..... Steward?
Familiar: Coyote -
Truth: "You get them before they get you."
Mouse was born to a good old American family- starting out in Virginia, Mouse was only five years of age when her family packed up and left, travelling west to make their fortunes settling the wild. To build a better life for their children, or so it had been planned. In Arizona, it wasn't quite what they had planned. True, this children- Mouse, and her three siblings- two older brothers and one younger sister- grew like beanstalks, healthy and strong on the farm their parents carved out of the wilderness. It would have been smarter, perhaps, to settle close to the settlement they drew supplies from and traded with, but wisdom proved not to be the family's strong suit. It was their undoing.
Mouse was almost twelve when it happened- too young to understand fully what was happening, aside from the gradual loss of freedom. Her parents never explained it- the most she remembers of the months leading up to the event were her brothers suddenly growing solemn and serious, her parents having an increasing number of visitors- the natives, though rarely the settlers in town, too. Mouse only met the latter- and they always seemed so worried, so sad- left to care for her young sister, and explained nothing, Mouse didn't understand what was going on until the tensions finally broke.
She never knew the whys of it all- Maybe they had settled somewhere they shouldn't have, perhaps her father and brothers had over-hunted, or perhaps there were disagreements with trade. Whatever it was, Mouse never knew, and the conflict ended in blood.
Mouse remembers very vividly, to this day, the party which came to cut down her father- her brothers. She remembers hiding with her six year old sister in her arms, in the futile hope that if they hid, they might escape with their lives. She remembers being dragged out to see the lifeless bodies of her family, a strange man tearing her sister from her arms, and pain- and then nothing.
She was the only lucky one. She was told later, by the woodwife who had plucked her, barely living, from the war zone which was once her home, that her father had encouraged conflict with the natives. That he had continuously trespassed onto their lands and stole from their traps, and as a last straw, killed a young man who tried to defend his own kill. Mouse never believed any of it- she remembered well enough her loving father- and her brothers. Her mother, her sister, and the strange, angry men who came to yell and threaten them all, though she never knew what they were threatening. She remembered it all well- replayed it in her mind and committed it all to memory. If no one else was going to demand justice, if all anyone else was ever going to say was that they reaped what they had sown.
Still, Mouse paid her dept to Mary well- the woodwife who had taken her in. The woman had the sense to never take the girl with her, during any rare occasion she went to meet the natives, and they got on well enough. Well enough that Mary took the reserved girl on as her apprentice, once it became obvious she had been gifted with sight, and Mouse never spoke a word of the rage and hurt she nursed, well after the deaths of her family. No, that all remained quiet, festering and growing the more the young girl dwelled on it.... She held the secret hope for vengeance close to her secret heart, well up to the day she had her dream of revealing.
It was a dark, bloody thing- fitting for a girl who held such dark desires so close to her heart, and dark ideas and requirements whispered in her ear, and when she woke.... She knew dearest Mary would not approve. She knew without ever sharing- Woodwives were supposed to be kind, caring people- the kind of people who would pick a dying girl out of the burnt-out husk of her family's farm and take care of her out of good will. Not the kind of person Mouse was- not with the kind of person her dream meant she was.
So, in the early hours of the morning, Mouse stole out of the house, taking what necessities she must- sewing supplies, but also a bow, knives, matches, rope, food- whatever she might need for the coming weeks of the wilderness, and stole into the dark, exactly as her dream had said. She managed to survive off her own force of will and Mary's teaching- taking great pains to follow the exact instructions of her dreams- felling first a fox, for cunning.... Then a wolf, for protection. A deer, for grace, an eagle for power, and finally, a great old bear, for strength and wisdom. And then... she set out on a pilgrimage.
It was her first time going into the misty paths on her own, following her own footsteps from a dream, guided not to the heart, but beyond, where the paths crossed into the wood, and on that boundary she met him. The walker, a giant creature that looked both man and beast. There, she made a deal. She wanted power- the power to make those who would hurt her family, who would hurt others, pay for what they did, make sure they never did the same again, to protect herself from further hurt. It had seemed like a good idea at the time- to take what the creature offered, the power and the security. The dream couldn't have been wrong.
Once the deal was struck, however.... That first time, Mouse blacked out completely. She heard tales later, from strangers who heard from those who ran, who were lucky not to be caught- children, mostly, that a great beast- a great mix of things, wolf and bear, eagle and fox- came out of the wood one night and tore a trail through the land that stained the sand red. She herself does not remember what happened- not completely. Just pricks of pain, and a haze of rage and hatred like she had never known before- she had only thought she hated.
Fear drove her into the wood- fear of hunters, after she practiced her new abilities for the first time. Stone arrows did not kill, but they hurt- they hurt very much. Fear also of what she might do to hunters, finding herself grow more beast-like with each passing hour beneath the safety of other's skin. Fear of the creature she made her deal with, however, kept her from the wood- leaving her to wander the misty paths, alone, waiting.
Likes: Solitude, warmth, security, stability
Dislikes: Cities, entrapment, loud noises/sudden movements, unpredictability, change
Talents: Innate understanding of animals and nature, Heightened senses, Protection charms, wild magics, corrupting magics
Weaknesses: Purity magics, instinct, humanity, iron, fire, running water