Abigail
Abigail (Abby) is a young, good looking, woman. A girl, really. Brown hair with reddish tinges sneaks out from beneath the hood of fine leather cloak. The cloak covers some ordinary clothing; fit for well-off peasants, but not much more. She sports sturdy boots of the same material as her cloak.
There is a backpack slung over her shoulder, and one hand grasps a staff. Occasionally, when her cloak swishes just right, one can spy a crossbow hanging off her side.
But her most notable feature, perhaps, is her eyes. Bright, brown eyes that complete the pleasing appearance she presents. But there's more than beauty here: there's confidence. Confidence in abundance.
It doesn't fully dispel the notion that perhaps she has no place here. But it is enough to keep people from openly mocking her presence.
There is a backpack slung over her shoulder, and one hand grasps a staff. Occasionally, when her cloak swishes just right, one can spy a crossbow hanging off her side.
But her most notable feature, perhaps, is her eyes. Bright, brown eyes that complete the pleasing appearance she presents. But there's more than beauty here: there's confidence. Confidence in abundance.
It doesn't fully dispel the notion that perhaps she has no place here. But it is enough to keep people from openly mocking her presence.