favorite gross nature fact: a slug is basically a muscular foot, and the name 'gastropod' literally means stomach foot.
personality: cheryl isnt one way or the other—they're a neutral being, a middle ground—like a calm day on the ocean's horizons, they stay in place, strong and unmoving. their reliability isnt questioned—if you need someone, they are there, a gentle hand and a caring touch to show you the light again. they know just how to make their friends feel better in their own unique ways, and they have an endless compassion for the people they love and life itself. it is not necessarily out of the kindness of their heart, rather, they just have a lot of love in their heart, and like a flower seeks to share its seed with the world, they seek to share their love with the world. in their heart lies a forest, and this forest only grows bigger, brighter, and better, each time they share their love with those around them, with the world itself, feeling its heartbeat beneath their paws.
many books and poems and personal writing lie in their private library—they have so much literature in their possession, it overwhelms the mind. boggles it, trying to understand how so many words can exist in one place. there's stories of adventure and thrilling escapes and marvelous magic tricks and personal diaries and journals and all kinds of important (or not so important) documents and historical works that, among anyone else, you're not sure they'd be in such pristine condition. they dust and clean each one individually, dedicating hours to their "work," to make sure they're perfect and in their proper places. the vines that overgrow, they snip off with a gentle touch, and lay to rest in the garden to live on. they dont scare off the animals that happen to enter the greenhouse-turned-library, rather, they entice them away from the books, to a place more suited for them to thrive.
ask them their name, and they'll reluctantly tell you—like it's a secret, something not to be shared—but getting them to stop talking about their garden is nigh impossible. they could go on for hours, and days even, about all the kinds of plants they've seen and all the kinds of flowers and ferns and pure life they grow in their garden. it gives them a thrill—a happiness unlike any other—to see their plants grow and grow and eventually, like all things, age. it brightens their day when they get to talk about all their "tens of hundreds of children," and they never tire of talking about their plants. this is the one place, aside from their room, that cheryl never lets anyone else inside unless they specifically bring you. it's almost unnerving, but it's easier to understand when you realize how important it is to them.
cheryl has a strange liking for slugs and snails alike. these tiny, mucus-riddled creatures have captured their attention so completely it's almost comical, in a way, but also very endearing. they take great care to ensure their slugs and snails are always happy, healthy, and well fed, and often spend a good portion of their day"playing" with them. (it's a bit difficult, but they manage just fine.) their slugs and snails are easily the most valuable to them, and they absolutely adore each and every one of their friends. (they dont like to refer to them as pets.) cheryl can name each one by name—that's how much attention they pay to their precious friends—and has sworn to remember every single one of them for the rest of their days.
