It's long, y'all! Buckle up! °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Aldric Fenvane (Fen, for short) °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 23 °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Male °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Pan °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Skilled tracker and hunter, highly perceptive, good at reading people and knowing when they're lying °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Far too quick to trust. Struggles to ask for help even when he desperately needs it, reckless when protecting someone he cares about, stubbornness that borders on self-destructive °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Fen is the kind of person who decides he likes you within the first five minutes and then acts like he's known you for years. He's warm, openly enthusiastic, and has an almost frustrating amount of energy for someone who lives in a frozen fortress. He talks too much when he's comfortable and goes very quiet when something is actually wrong which he'll deny if you point it out. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Stubbornness is baked into him; once he's made up his mind about something, or someone, it takes an enormous amount to shift him. He's loyal to a fault, the type to run back into a bad situation because he refused to leave someone behind. Doesn't hold grudges. Probably should hold more grudges. His perceptiveness is a funny contrast to how trusting he is. He can tell when someone's lying to him and still give them the benefit of the doubt anyway. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Tall with dark brown hair that's always slightly disheveled. Grey eyes that are more expressive than he realises. Easy to read if you know what to look for. Looks younger than his title suggests. (Because he is) °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 A long, faded scar running from his left eyebrow down to his cheekbone (from a hunting accident at seventeen) A small, dark birthmark on the inside of his right wrist. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Fine wool tunics in deep navy or charcoal, well-cut leather trousers, fur-lined boots that are expensive but clearly worn for function over fashion. A heavy travelling cloak he prefers over anything ceremonial. Dresses like a noble who'd rather be outdoors....because he would be °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Early mornings, the sound of snow falling, strong tea, dogs, maps, books a good fire after a long day outside// Being told to slow down, court ceremonies, watching people he cares about get hurt, being asked to be someone he's not, silence that feels wrong °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Noble House Fenvane has held their land for generations, known for being fair, protective of their people, and difficult to intimidate. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Fen grew up in Fenvane Keep at the edge of the northern territories, where winters are punishing even by Aerydal's standards. His father was strict and politically calculating, "preparing" Aldric for court life from a young age. Aldric learned the politics, but he also spent every spare hour out in the forests and passes with the household rangers, which is where he actually felt like himself. (With his mother too!) When his father died four years ago, Aldric inherited the title at nineteen. Far earlier than anyone expected. He's been figuring it out ever since, mostly by trusting his gut and the people around him, which has gone well about half the time. (Closer to a 1/3 of the time. Trust me his Aunt is NOT happy) °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Keeps a battered journal he claims is for tracking weather and hunting routes. It is mostly that. There's other stuff in there too. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Genuinely cannot hold a grudge. Has tried. Failed every time. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Has an irrational, specific dislike of geese. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 Can whistle well enough that birds sometimes respond, which he finds unreasonably delightful. His aunt has given up trying to get him to use his title properly in conversation. °。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 House Fenvane's control of the northern pass makes Fen quietly important in Aerydal's politics whether he wants to be or not. He doesn't care much about power, he cares about people. That's both his best quality and the thing most likely to get him into serious trouble.
