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[Bree'Dorian Armunn]

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Bree layed there very still in her bed. The covers half covering her head. She still know the artful skill of playing opossum, so she had yet to fool her father if he glanced her direction on his way to either his study or his own bedchamber. Her door, at night, was always kept ajar since the fire. Anyone who tried to shut it, just found it open again a few minutes later.

She reached over to fiddle with the end of one glove on her hand before snuggling the covers tightly around her once more. She wore the gloves nearly everywhere, except for bathtime. Her beloved dagger too was always either on her person or within close range. It would rest on her nightstand when she was in bed. Another tell tell sign if she had snuck out or not. Now, at nine years old, Bree thought she was clever, and she was for her age, but there are some things that little girls just don't consider sometimes.

Below her bedroom window the chickens made distressed noises for a moment. Alerted, Bree listened for any sound her father might make from his study next door. No sound, so she jumped out of bed, instinctively grabbing her dagger and headed to the arch-shaped window to look down upon the chicken coops just below. Their rooftops had often been her safety jump down when she would sneak out. There was a shadow, two shadows, moving around the yard below amongst the chickens. The forms were too large to be one of them. Too humanoid looking. Allowing her eyes to get use to the outside moonlight she spied them. She knew who both were. They were the fathers of the three boys who hounded her almost daily. And she watched them as they bagged first one and then another chicken, making them make noises. Normal enough from time to time, but living almost on top of their hen houses, Bree had been able to distinguish which noises they made meant distress. Her head turned toward the wall that was shared with the study and thought about telling her father that chickens were being stolen. But, she had a personal stake in this. They and two other men had stolen her mother's chickens before. No one stole from the Armunns. If caught, and eventually they would be, her father might do something terrible to them. Wanting the stealing to stop, but not wanting entire families to suffer death, Bree had taken it upon herself to send a message. A few weeks earlier when the four men had stolen chickens, she'd paid each household a covert visit and killed their pets. Stringing them up in front of their doors and placing spooky writting on the ground to scare them. She'd left daggers in each of the pets as a warning to frighten them further. No more chickens had been taken since then...until now.

She ran over to her little writting desk and quickly scrolled out a short note.

Papa,
Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Leroy are stealing nuna's chickens again.
They have been warned not to. Please don't kill everyone.
Bree'

Quickly she ran out of her room and over to the study door. She'd known since she could remember not to disturb her father while he was in his study for anything frivolous. This was important, but she didn't want to be taken to watch a slaughter either, as some sort of lesson for her. She heard movement within, so she bent down, and pushed the little note up under the door and shoved it hard so it would slide a couple of feet and make a noise. She then ran back to her room and scrambled back in her bed, putting her dagger back on the nightstand. She threw the blankets back over her and lay there.

The next day found Bree out in the field where most of the village children played. This early in the morning though, there were just three. Travis and Mayar were two boys that often played catch there, and Bree, up in her favorite willow tree looking out onto the nearby ocean, thinking and daydreaming. Her legs stretched out ontop of a limb with her back to the trunk, she paid Travis no attention when he called up to her. She didn't want to talk right now. Her mind was on Sosaria and trying to envision what it might look like there. But Travis persisted.
"Do you even hear me?" he looked up, a hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight.
Bree turned her head slowly and looked down at him.
"Do you want to play catch with us?"
Mayar was annoyed. His friend had recently begun talking about the Armunn girl far too much and it made him mad. Girls weren't fun to play with. He didnt know what this obsession was all about. "She can't play with us, Trav."
Travis turned to his friend, "Why not?"
Mayar smirked, "Because she doesn't have hands. Her pa ripped them off and ate them."
Travis turned back to look up at Bree and stared at her gloved hands. His friend wasn't the most trustworthy kid around but he too had heard the rumors. Rumors that Bree's father could turn into a terrible beast and ate children when he wasn't fed. Lord Armunn's own housekeeper had nodded and cackled when his older sister dared ask the old witch looking woman. If he ate people, then it was entirely possible he could eat Bree's hands off. It would explain the gloves she always wore. Maybe it hid the fact that she had no hands.
Bree spied him staring at her hands. This made her self concious and she tucked her hands behind her back and glared at him. "Stop staring!" she whispered just loud enough so he could hear.
Travis averted his gaze and mumbled an apology. Mayar wasn't done though, "I heard all she has in her gloves are little stumps. It's gory. You should stay away from her before he eats your hands too."
"Is it true?" Travis asked her quietly.

Bree looked at one boy then the other. She didn't like her hands to be the topic here. "No. Now leave me alone."
Mayar walked over to stand under the tree and yelled up at her, "C'm on and show us then. Take off your gloves."
Bree was annoyed now. She shook her head no.

"Show. Us." Mayar reached for the tree and was about to climb it but Bree jumped down. She was ready to head home, but she heard Mayar approach her from behind and she spun around to face him. He reached a hand toward her hand but she yanked it back behind her.
"Stop Mayar, or I'll ask my papa to eat you." Her words were clear and firm but still quietly spoken.
Her threat only seemed to anger him though, even when Travis backed off a few more feet away from them.
"I'll stop when you show us your hands, cause I don't think you got any," he said stubbornly before trying to quickly reach for her other hand, but Bree backed up quickly out of reach, lowering her hand just by her belted dagger.
Bree grinned coldly, her eyes taking on a wicked display. "You really wanna see my hand?"
This stopped Mayar from approaching any closer, and curious, he nodded.

In a moment's span, Bree had unsheathed her dagger, grabbed Mayer by the collar of his shirt to bring him foward while bringing her dagger to his head at the same time. He was caught off guard and lost his footing, propelling his face into the sharp point. Bree shoved as hard as she could, planting the dagger up to it's hilt between his eyes.
Mayar's body dropped do the ground, eyes still open in shock, but he was dead. Bree didn't understand at first. She'd never killed a person before. She kicked at his foot with hers and spoke fearfully, "Mayar. Mayar get up."
There was movement nearby and Bree looked to see Travis running toward the village, screaming for help. There was a man in the distance, bailing hay. Mayar's father!
Quickly, Bree bent down and yanked hard on her dagger to pull it out of the boy's skull. Once upright, she pivoted and ran straight for home and what she hoped would be safety.

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Bree's letter to her mother, Ditto Armunn.

Dear Nuna,

Father is sending me to visit Sosaria with you. I'll be leaving very soon I'm told. I miss you a geat deal and look forward to seeing a new place. I'm very excited about the voyage too. The fishing boat trips were always fun so maybe this trip will be too.
I am also eager to meet aunt Cat and aunt Ceinwyn. You've spoken such interesting things about them both.
See you soon.

Love,
Bree
_________________
= Bree Armunn =

Song for Bree


"Even though Imryrr took more after myself, I predict that Bree will be able to shape the land through whispers in diplomats' ears..."
- Lord Tarothin Armunn