●❍●Sophie●❍●
Gender: Female.
Age: 19.
Position: Tracker.
Personality:
Soft body by upbringing does not mean soft mind, Sophie is a woman that does not let herself be walked over. Though by nature she is relaxed, easy to follow the river of life, to observe the worries of the world rather then partake in them; if Sophie feels the need, or is called on, she is as wild as a stampeding Dualaphant. It is both this softness, yet wild spirit and her ability to move with the forest instead of through it; her respect for all living things on Ðanfůir, that has graced Sophie with the Horn of Verca, granting her position of the Head of the Hunt.
Sophie's view on men is like that of a Earth female to a wild animal. A tracker, Sophie has found herself many a times following the footprints of men, observing them as they move through the undergrowth or hunt; she has even watched them bathe on several occasions. She watches with something akin to wonder, finding them a fascinating species. And like an Earth child waiting for a puppy on Christmas, Sophie has long since anticipated the day she would be allowed to hunt her male down. To finally touch that which she was only ever watched. She cannot wait for her pet.
Description:
Sophie stands at a rather compliant 5'7'', though it does little to stretch out her chubby appearance. Sophie's upbringing was tempered with gentle and delicate movements from her elder trainer; her tracking lessons simply a soft walk through the mother forest, unlike the grueling runs of the other trackers. This soft up bringing brought with it a soft body, speckled with freckles that splattered across her skin in different hues. Her thick and wild hair splayed down her neck, the ends just curling off the skin as it flicked and unfurled. A thick fringe, sweeping across her features due to her right side parting is kept back with a series of interlocking wood pieces. This exposes her two, large mid-hued orbs.
Her thick thighs are covered partially by an animal hide skirt, roughly stitched together to give it a patchwork effect, though not intentional. A series of leather pouches are tied around her waist, each containing different elements and items, they vary in size and shape. A small drum is also tied to the dried vine that keep her satchels attached around her hips. Her chubby belly is exposed, though she knows not of shame or modesty like her sisters, having never been worried about how others would see her. Her sisters and aunties had never spoke foul of her appearance, only kindness, saying she would birth many strong women from her healthy hips. Her large bosom is also clad in tight animal hide.
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((I don't have a picture for her. D;
I'll do the opening post now, another Copy Paste from my other RP. xD
Sophie wont meet up with the other hunters, they'll split off by themselves. :3))
Sophie
The ceremonial paint was cold and slimy as one of the many priestesses smeared it down over her right eye; her two slightly spread fingers leaving two rouge red trails in their wake. The priestess’s fingers moved then, starting from the right corner of her jaw before arching over her lower face the, two fingers passing by each side of her mouth before they smeared over her left cheek, ending at the other corner of her jaw bone. She gave a nervous lick of her lips, her tongue swiping through some of the smeared paint, the bitter taste of the berries used causing her jaw to clench as her tongue whipped back in.
Her left hand tightened around her spear, the leather creaking under her grasp as the yips and cries of her sisters and aunties cried out, their songs filling her body with courage and spirit. Several hands slapped across the back of her shoulder, over and over again as they passed by, giving her their encouragement without words. The thump of the drums pounded through her body as she felt it course down her legs, ending at her feet as she gave an excited jump like many of her sisters dancing around.
Today was a joyous day for all, and Sophie could not stop the infectious smile from splitting her own features.
It was then the Mother Priestess stepped forwards, but instead of the noise dying down, it erupted into a magnificent chaos. The sounds of the drums escalated as the dancing of her wild sisters had their feet thumping at the ground like a stampeding Dualaphant, dust and dirt rising around their feet and legs in a cloud. The Mother Priestess was old, her form short and hunched as her mattered grey and dirty black hair hung around her form, nearly completely covered in the remains of lesser animals.
Her left hand slowly twitched as her fingers began to rap over a small ceremonial drum attached to her waist as her right hand dove into a satchel by her side. A primal song made up of no words escaped through her aged and withered lips as she began to scatter the ashes mixed with the blood of a sacrificial animal around her and her hunt sisters. Sophie eagerly danced her feet along the trail of ash, coating the soles of her bare feet in it, knowing it would bring her swift and quiet footsteps and the luck of a good hunt.
As the stout elder came to a stop in front of the group again, Sophie gave a quick respectful bow of her head. “You will walk the paths forged by your mothers before you today, on the day the three sisters share the sky.” She croaked, her bony fingers extending to the sky to regard the triplet of suns now hanging above the Tutuwuan in a perfect triangle. “It is a joyous occasion, not only for you, but for your sisters and aunties.” She swung the same hand out to extend towards the huge gathering of females, only to have them explode into a flurry of noise as they were mentioned.
“The mother forest that bares onto us fruits that cure our hungering bellies, that houses animals that cover our flesh from the cold, tree’s that give us weapons to survive, will now give you males to protect and own. These will be the males that bring to us another generation of daughters.” She finished softly, a kind smile only an elderly woman could give cracking her lips. “They will run from you, they will hide from you and they may even fight you, for they know no better, my daughters. They are only simple creatures; you must guide them into your bosom with a gentle hand.” She cooed, swinging her own hand to rest over her heart, Sophie’s smile could only stretch wider in return to the Mother Priestess’s words.
She gave a hard stamp of her towering staff, the bones and trinkets covering the head of it violently jiggling and crashing together. “Sophie.” She called out, looking her straight in the eye as she beckoned her forwards with a crow like hand; Sophie quickly complied. Two thin and willowy elder priestesses stepped forward, in their hands they held together an exquisitely ornate box, so unlike the primal nature of these woman. The Mother Priestess turned her staff jingling as she waved it over the top of the box, an incantation spewing from her lips in an unknown tongue. And the end of the dramatic spell the end of her staff bashed down onto the top of the box, the lid popping open in return.
The Mother Priestess cast her staff off to the side as she reached into the box to grasp the item of such importance. She turned with awe in her eyes as she reverently held the alabaster horn high above her head. She whispered, barely audible to their ears, a soft sentence in a language Sophie knew not of as she slowly lowered her hands; Sophie eagerly threw out her own as the Mother Priestess placed the horn into her hands, using her gnarled fingers to close Sophie’s around the legendary item tightly.
“This is the horn of Itti Fiye, it is a great honour to hold it, it is an even greater honour to lead to receive it for the hunt. You have been given a great responsibility, Sophie. You must guide your sisters within the womb of the Mother Forest, you must keep them safe. It is your fate that you lead them. It is your destiny to bring you and your sisters to greatness!” The crowd erupted into cries as Sophie’s own hand clasped at the horn, its surface scored with the greatest story of their tribe, the story of the hunt.
Raising the horn to her lips, she raised a sound unlike any she had heard as the horn bellowed the beginning of the hunt through the land, stretching farther and wider than any bellow her mortal lungs could provide. “Now go!” Came the cry of the Mother Priestess, pointing her worn and aged hands to the forest. Sophie could do nothing but heed her words as she took off, her ash covered feet pounding down the well worn path of her ancestors, her sisters following her lead as she disappeared into the mother forest’s embrace.
If she had not ran so fast, she and her sisters may have heard the Mother Priestess last words.
“Be careful, my daughter! There is a creature within the forest that our tribe has spoke of for many a generation. The Ju•dai should not be forgotten.” She whispered, her voice croaking as her arm fell limp, a few sisters rushing forward to support the Mother Priestess as she fell weak. “The Ju•dai is just a myth, Mother Priestess, a story to scare the daughters.” Another lesser priestess piped up, trying to soothe the Mother Priestess’s worry.
“The Ju•dai is not a dream, daughter, and Sophie’s fate is to concur more than the hunt. Her destiny is much larger than that. I hope she has the spirit or fire within her, she will need it.”
