A rose gray base, limbs fade into a light gray, as does most of the face, ears, top of neck. Brown-gray muzzle and ears. Dark brown cloven hooves. Hair is curly, light gray and nearly white. Leonine tail, with hair at the base and tip. Two pale-blue, semi-transparent horns, like glass, form along her profile. Sharp horns that curve slightly outwards, and join at a jagged tip. Eyes of sky, baby blue. While light gray splashes form along her rump and shoulder.

She moves like a warm blood, with a cadence that comes naturally with each step. Though hardly lithe or delicate, she is rather muscled, and solid in conformation.

Carries a silver necklace, that attaches to her mother's broken horn.

Adventurous – Strong Willed – Gentle – Kind – Playful – Wild – Determined – Fearless

Noëlle, while painfully young, is led by her curiosity of the world. Determined to seek out a life worth lived. She doesn’t consider herself lucky or fortunate to have survived this long. Nor guilty or downtrodden by the events that have brought her to Novus, rather, determined to prove her circumstances wrong.

Without having to prove herself headstrong, she presents herself well mannered and soft in her gestures. Each action is rehearsed, and well imagined before its appearance. There rarely is anything that knocks her off her feet. She knows how to play her part in the world, to the point of getting what she wants. Which is often a matter of survival.

That being said she trusts in no one, only in the spirit of good will – that everyone is capable of imparting a form of kindness to the world. Where her fellows choose cruelty, she chooses to step in without thinking of her wellbeing. While hardly the fighter, the girl chooses words and jest rather than to arms. There are moments where the girl reflects lightly on her life. And while loneliness floods in small, poignant doses, she remains driven to find purpose and life beyond her past.

Born on the eve of a dying world (Helovia), Noëlle does not know much of her beginnings. Her mother perished during its collapse, and has only had stories to supplement her existence. A shard of her mother’s horn is what physical proof she has of the mare, set to a silver chain that she guards closely to her chest.

What became of her and her father remains foggy at best. What she does recall is that the kindness of strangers allowed for their successful passage to the land of Nordlys. A journey that took the span of months, as her father required the assistance of a wet nurse. Those days she had been ill, and during them they had stayed at length from one herd or village to the next.

When they arrived they made their way to Mortholion. A new beginning, her father would remind her. The possibilities were endless. Her father was more than determined to settle within its walls, with the intention of providing a decent life for his daughter. What the child recalls is the excitement of entering through Mortholion’s gates, and the smell of ocean and sea breeze coaxing them ahead.

Unfortunately the child’s father couldn’t afford the education of a gentleman. And perhaps he thought it possible, should he work tirelessly for her future sake. But without a mother to look after her, it remained too risky to keep her alone at such a young age. Noëlle had not entirely recovered from her terrible cough either.

A month of reprieve was followed by heartache. Not quite understanding the intentions of her father, Noëlle was given away to an orphanage ruled by the religious institution in that kingdom. Despite their teachings she did not take them to heart. She daydreamed when they sung hymns of praise to the gods. What form of education they did provide, she took to day dreaming relentlessly of magical creatures and powerful heroines worlds away – head in the clouds. Her inattention brought the wrath of the sisters down upon her. Which only fueled the fire within. Rebellion broiled within her bones, and the sister’s corrections merely taught her how to hide it well enough.

Father would visit her from time to time – when he could. At first Noëlle had been bitter that the man had abandoned her. In time she grew to savor their moments. His pleas to take her meager studies more seriously eventually took their root. And with an awful amount of hard work, exchanging favors for tutoring – her studies improved on an average level. She’d learned to read and write, and considered the texts of lore and history into consideration. Even if they meant nothing to her, believing she was not suited to a life of books and inkwells.

At the age of 2.5 she began her life as a servant under an established household. It was then that she began to notice the effect of hard labors on her father. The light had gone out in his eyes, save for when they could steal away from the realities of their situations and laugh over a meal.

The life of a servant was none the kinder. She was regarded as less than the nobles she served. The learning curve for her new position was steep enough to warrant a punishment here and there when mistakes were made. Annoyed by the powers of the upper class, she pursued the life of a servant purely for the room and board – and what little pay she could earn. Unlike the other females of her kind, she rarely partook in gossip and reveled in the freedoms of half days off, and the occasional festival. Whether that was exploring the woods, the beaches, or taking a trip into town to view the sights. As it were she had dreams, dreams of a homestead, dreams of owning something, anything worthwhile.

As it were, the world of Nordyls began to fall without warning. In the chaos that ensued, Noëlle could not find her father. Finding herself swallowed up by the mass migration, she quickly found herself truly alone in the world. She buries the hope of her father’s wellbeing deep within. It is more probable that he is either dead, or lost in some strange land – for which Noelle grieves in silence.

She focuses on survival for the next few months that lead her to Novus. Experiencing all the cruelties and subtle graces that strangers provide her – she keeps her head up with an open heart. Her gaze finally settles on the Dusk Court. Worn and exhausted, she takes the opportunity to become a Merchant. Finding a peculiar fondness for the items no longer cared for by their owners. Restoring what she can, and earning her coin by her own hand. Perhaps the fates have finally imparted some good luck ahead.

Small Accessory #1: Silver chain necklace, with half of a pale blue horn set to it.

Small Accessory #2: Small leather satchel.

Small accessory #3: Scarf.