Le morte d'Mordred
Cross her palm with silver, willingly or no'.
Long red hair she keeps bound in a bonny plait. Tall, long-limbed, and bony, with high cheekbones and blue eyes beneath dark brows. Altogether too bold to be considered pretty.
When traveling, she wears a worn plaid shawl, and long days driving a meager cart have given her a slight hunch. All the better to lay low that way. Her clothes are threadbare and simple, save for the knotted moonstone ring she wears on her right hand.
She carries herself softly, her mannerisms befitting a much older woman.
But is that just a part of the act?
Ealasaid and her sister were born into a family of traveling minstrels from the North. Though they led a humble existence, they never wanted for love, and were often mistaken for twins, so close were the two. And such terrible tricksters were they, that it would no’ ‘ave surprised any o’ them to learn that there was Fair blood mixed in.
While her sister learned to sing and dance and make all manner of friends, Eala hung back with her grandmama, learning the art of telling fortunes and cutting purses when that didn’t pay enough. But when her predictions proved all too true, the family would have to move on before her “witch-nose” was discovered.
She can “sniff out” a place or portend the weather with ease, but she has no control o’er the rest of her abilities. It is in her dreams that she Sees, and what she has Seen gives her cause to be Afraid.
Most recently she dreamed of a lad, the lad whom she would love. But ye canna trust the Seeing o’ yerself, or so her grandmama told her. And so she is wary o’ this lad, and the great turmoil that he brings.
For he brings Change, none o’ it kind, and the sisters will have to look to each other if they mean to survive.
Girl: I am a fair, pretty girl, full of virtue and youthfulness. The forest’s flowers and songs I love.
Wolf: Hey, pretty young girl, what are you doing in the forest alone, so far from all beings?
Girl: Hey, handsome boy, come here! Let us pick some flowers in this forest together!
Wolf: I am not a boy, I am the bad wolf. In the woods I hunt, hunt for the flower of your youth.
Girl: Well, wolf, let us play a game, let us dance a joyful dance, let us sing decent songs!
Wolf: I don’t like children’s games, I like playing sinister wolf games in the depths of the forest, with you.
Girl: Wild wolf, do whatever your heart longs for, but I beg you: Stay with me!
Wolf: No, girl, I will not abide with you, I’m not staying with you and don’t love you. Never loved you.
Girl: I was a fair and pretty girl. Now I’m poor and overcome with shame. Now only the deep pond awaits me.