Approved Finnian Brightfur

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finnian Brightfur​

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Skills (11 points)​

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Physical (4 points)​	Mental (4 points)	Social (3 points)
Jack be Nimble [Trained] (2) Street urchins are light on their feet, and more slippery than a greased pig.	People Pleaser [Trained] (2) Having intuition and charisma is a great thing, right up until it's not...	Plays Innocent [Trained] (2) You gotta trust him, look at those eyes! They're so big and blue, he wouldn't hurt a fly!
Quiet Like [Trained] (2) Street urchins know how to be quiet when they need to. It comes in handy for sneaking.	Tough Little Biscuit [Trained] (2) He takes a lickin', and keeps on tickin'. Hardier than your average foxkit.	Daddy Sang Bass [Novice] (1) Singin' seemed to help a troubled soul! One of these days, and it won't be long, I'll rejoin them in a song...

General Information​

Age: 12
Species: Red Fox
Size: Medium (for his age)

Physical Description​

A scruffy street urchin stands before you. His clothes are threadbare, his fur is disheveled, and no shoes to speak of. Foxkits like him were a dime a dozen, and nothing stood out about him in particular -- other than a small knife tucked into a sheath at his waist. He was scrawny and malnourished, and had a scrappy look about him. Not a threat, really, but potentially dangerous in the way a cornered wild animal could be.

Inventory and Real Estate​

A small sheath knife. 3" long, drop point blade, with a thick spine. Definitely not a crude tool, but not ornate either. Just a practical one. Eagle eyed observers would notice a marlinspike tucked in along the spine of the sheath.

And buying a house, in this economy? Goodness, no. Finn is just renting for now. Renting for the low low price of please-don't-catch-me-sleeping-in-your-woodshed.

Personality​

It was hard to assess what he was like, just by watching him. He was quiet and reserved. If you stared at him long enough, pale blue eyes would stare right back behind a frown. Not in a challenging way -- no. Finn didn't seem to want to take risks like that. But it was a cold assessment: were you the sort who would extend pity and charity, or cause trouble for him? Those who looked like the type who'd have work for him to do would find his demeanor quickly warming.

Still, he didn't have a mean or aggressive look about him. He wasn't a charlatan or pickpocket -- or at least, if he was, he was very good at looking innocent. (Perhaps he was a very good pickpocket.) He did have to eat, somehow. Perhaps you'd find him trying to find errands and such to run... that is, if anyone would trust the likes of him to not run off with the goods.

Despite the disrepair of his clothes, he didn't smell, at least. Seemingly, he tried to keep good hygiene.

Strengths & Weaknesses​

Finn is a tough little booger. Living on the streets isn't wonderful, but he seems to be clinging tenaciously to life. The foxkit is clearly in survival mode though, and is only one accident from being in a bad way. A twisted ankle or broken arm could be enough to dash any hopes of ever leaving this life.

He seemed to be a people pleaser, and shifted his personality for what the situation called. To the overwhelmed mother with a bag of groceries, he'd be charming and cheerful. To the brusque business man, he'd be sharp and attentive. But once they were gone, he almost looked listless, like his soul had gone into hibernation.

To the discerning eye, there was potential to make use of him. Finn seemed eager to learn a trade, and worked hard to please whoever he was serving. But a lump of clay can be formed into many things, and unscrupulous people might mold it into something rather unpleasant. Did the kit have the sense to know who to trust?

History​

Finding out a history on your run-of-the-mill street urchin? Best of luck. But maybe if you ask around some of the shops, you might find a shopkeep who can tell you a thing or two.

"Finny? He's a good sort, 'e is. Shows up 'ere around eight or so, lookin' for work. Usually finds something by noon, 'n sometimes he comes back 'fore the evenin' if he needs a bit more. Don't know much about him, tho'. Think his pa used t'be in the Navy. Not sure what happened to 'im though. Nor his mother. Fell on hard times, I reckon."

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'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
Hard times, hard times, come again no more
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door
Oh, hard times, come again no more​

 

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

Approved!