SIDONIE - UNKNOWN / DEMISEXUAL - SINGLE
MAYBE OPEN FOR BREEDINGS
MAYBE OPEN FOR BREEDINGS
sidonie, the gift
Sidonie [WIP]
charming and mysterious
calm and softspoken
loves making others happy
more a listener than a talker
can sweep anyone of their feet if she wants to
Story
"Are you an angel, miss?"
Her laughter was as soft and bright as the sound of the bell on her tail. She looked down at the small Viscling at her feet, smiling.
"Oh no, darling. I'm afraid I am not."
Snowflakes were getting caught in her pelt, slowly melting, as she reached down to grab one of the gift packages, that she was carrying around on a wooden trolley. Down the road the bell of the church was striking five. It had gotten dark and the rural christmas scenery was lit only by the street lamps and the lantern, that Sidonie had with her, now resting on a snowed-in bench, so she had both paws free.
She chose one, dark blue paper with golden stars, twinkling in the light of the lantern, and gave it to the Viscling, who smiled shily at her.
"I am just another Viscetkind. As we all are."
The snowflakes on her shawl glistered and it seemed, as if she was surrounded by stardust - or thousands of tiny stars, fallen from heaven.
Sidonie was a beautiful sight to behold, but none of the Visclings surrounding her, were paying her much attention. They all were busy opening the gifts, that the friendly female had offered them. Out of carefully hand-crafted packages they drew apples, oranges, nuts, chocolate, gingerbread and tiny toys.
In the village she lived, Sidonie was barely known - many mysteries surrounded the appearance of the elegant female. The children loved to say that she was an angel or a fairy; and while the adult Viscets were mostly found to shake their heads and laugh, even they had to wonder.
During most of the year, she was rarely ever seen. Like a famililar cryptid, she lived amongst the others and once in a while, she could be spotted shopping on the weekly market or found enjoying a cup of tea and some biskuits at the old bakery. When she was greeted, she would smile warmly, but she would always disappear as fast as she came.
Only during holiday season, she was an omnipresent figure within the streets of the town. Snow in her fur, the lantern in one paw and pulling her trolley with the other, Sidonie would walk around, handing out gifts to anyone she met; rarely talking, mostly smiling. It seemed to make her happy, and it really did.
In fact, Sidonie created all of these packages herself, it was, what brought her most joy: Crafting bags out of different kinds of paper and decorating them with all she could think of. Cut out stars and hearts and animal shapes, glitter and bows, felted snowmen. Every single package was created with love and filled with delicious treats and toys. The toys were mostly wood, she would craft them herself as well.
The manual labor was important to her, as it remembered her of a time, when she had nothing.
"Like the little girl with the matches."
She liked to say. But instead of Death getting a hold of her, she was saved. Saved by a friendly figure that she can barely remember anymore - except for the name: Nicholas. He had gifted her a baked apple, warm and delicious, and then he took her with her and gave her a home. She used to have nothing and now she had everything.
Nonetheless, it was important for her to never forget how lucky she had been. And after Nicholas had deceased, in his memory she had started to become her own version of him. Whenever she saw a smile on the Visclings faces, when they opened their gifts, she remembered her own smile and the smile Nicholas has granted her. To her, he had been a Saint. It was her duty now, to remember him.
Her laughter was as soft and bright as the sound of the bell on her tail. She looked down at the small Viscling at her feet, smiling.
"Oh no, darling. I'm afraid I am not."
Snowflakes were getting caught in her pelt, slowly melting, as she reached down to grab one of the gift packages, that she was carrying around on a wooden trolley. Down the road the bell of the church was striking five. It had gotten dark and the rural christmas scenery was lit only by the street lamps and the lantern, that Sidonie had with her, now resting on a snowed-in bench, so she had both paws free.
She chose one, dark blue paper with golden stars, twinkling in the light of the lantern, and gave it to the Viscling, who smiled shily at her.
"I am just another Viscetkind. As we all are."
The snowflakes on her shawl glistered and it seemed, as if she was surrounded by stardust - or thousands of tiny stars, fallen from heaven.
Sidonie was a beautiful sight to behold, but none of the Visclings surrounding her, were paying her much attention. They all were busy opening the gifts, that the friendly female had offered them. Out of carefully hand-crafted packages they drew apples, oranges, nuts, chocolate, gingerbread and tiny toys.
In the village she lived, Sidonie was barely known - many mysteries surrounded the appearance of the elegant female. The children loved to say that she was an angel or a fairy; and while the adult Viscets were mostly found to shake their heads and laugh, even they had to wonder.
During most of the year, she was rarely ever seen. Like a famililar cryptid, she lived amongst the others and once in a while, she could be spotted shopping on the weekly market or found enjoying a cup of tea and some biskuits at the old bakery. When she was greeted, she would smile warmly, but she would always disappear as fast as she came.
Only during holiday season, she was an omnipresent figure within the streets of the town. Snow in her fur, the lantern in one paw and pulling her trolley with the other, Sidonie would walk around, handing out gifts to anyone she met; rarely talking, mostly smiling. It seemed to make her happy, and it really did.
In fact, Sidonie created all of these packages herself, it was, what brought her most joy: Crafting bags out of different kinds of paper and decorating them with all she could think of. Cut out stars and hearts and animal shapes, glitter and bows, felted snowmen. Every single package was created with love and filled with delicious treats and toys. The toys were mostly wood, she would craft them herself as well.
The manual labor was important to her, as it remembered her of a time, when she had nothing.
"Like the little girl with the matches."
She liked to say. But instead of Death getting a hold of her, she was saved. Saved by a friendly figure that she can barely remember anymore - except for the name: Nicholas. He had gifted her a baked apple, warm and delicious, and then he took her with her and gave her a home. She used to have nothing and now she had everything.
Nonetheless, it was important for her to never forget how lucky she had been. And after Nicholas had deceased, in his memory she had started to become her own version of him. Whenever she saw a smile on the Visclings faces, when they opened their gifts, she remembered her own smile and the smile Nicholas has granted her. To her, he had been a Saint. It was her duty now, to remember him.