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Title: dustbunnie2
Area: Characters

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I have always promised Lord Smat that I would add to his archives and yet being rather untalented in the way of the written word it seems I constantly put it off in favor of less strenuous tasks. For my daughter's sake, however, at the very least I think it best to put a bit of my history into the books here lest she ever wonder about her mother.

For those reading, and especially for you, dear Leila shall you ever come across this, I apologize now for the informality of this. I rarely tell stories and prefer to leave such tasks to Alexander Silvermane, friend and bard. However, after reading over a few of the entries made by some dear friends, and indeed some by complete strangers, I don't feel quite so inadequate. Still…

I prefer not to speak often of my homeland. I left a long while ago and my memories of the island prove themselves to be a mixed blessing. Let it simply be known that I come from a small island far to the south, populated by my own people with a smattering of other such exotic men and women. I left many years ago when I was still a girl to seek out the rest of the world. Our island was always quite enclosed, and the people, as I've found now were rather close-minded. Sometimes, though, I can't but think it's not such a bad thing. The people there are, for the most part, content with their lives and the lack of worldly knowledge they carry. I was…oh…sixteen perhaps when I left? My memory is really quite poor and I've never found age to be of great importance regardless. I traveled for many years, mostly along the coastline of the mainland, occasionally hopping to other islands, once in awhile venturing very far inland. I was met as an oddity in nearly every place I went. As it still follows today. It seems rarely a day goes by that some traveler doesn't choke on his drink as I walk past. One would think that a woman's ears are hardly anything to take any notice of and I find it remarkable the number of people who find themselves immediately superior because they have the ears of an ape. And sometimes a pointed ape. I beg your pardon if I sound bitter, I had a rather irritating run in just the other day and it seems to have affected my judgement further.

To continue with my story, though this is hardly the place to launch into long tales, I traveled for many years. The friends I made during those journeys were few and far between. I was quite shy and my ears seemed to bring such considerable notice that sometimes it was easier to simply stay quiet. I got over that, however. It seems that some people can't accept a person until they're clubbed over the head with the truth of the matter. Oh dear, there I go again. Sorry. As it is, I've not seen any of my friends from those years for quite some time. One who was most dear, I've heard, was killed in battle in a distant land. The name of both land and friend will remain my own, as will the memories of such. Sometimes a woman is allowed a few secrets.

After quite some time…five years per