Post by byrdie on Jun 1, 2011 14:23:09 GMT
Satelle Anne Linnet
[/color][/size][/center][/size][/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]Satelle was a farmer's daughter. She grew up on her father's three and a half acre farm where she learned to tend to the crops and help her father with the harvest every year. It was Satelle, her father, Peter, and her little brother, Ronnie; her mother died of a fever the winter Satelle turned six. With the passing of her mother, Satelle was left to help raise her younger brother, Ronnie, who suffered from a rather harrowing case of polio. At least, that is what they assumed cursed him considering they could never afford to call on a doctor, hence her mother's death. But otherwise, Ronnie did fairly well for himself, though constantly relying on the nurturing care of his older sister.
The summer after Satelle turned 21, the lands of south Ireland experienced a treacherous drought, leaving the soils dry and sterile. Satelle sat and watched from the corner of her room as her father wept by the fire each night, preying to God to bring back their food source and stream of income. The young, red-headed woman could no longer stand to watch her family suffer. That night, she stole a set of her father's tattered clothes and kissed him and her brother good bye as they slept. She was determined to make something of herself and pull her family from the ruins that had swallowed them.
She saddled up her draft gelding, Tiger, leaving her favorite mare, Bella, behind for her father's uses. She made her way to the city of Dublin, thoughts hopeful towards the future yet her plans were still unstable. When she arrived, it came as no shock to her that things were more desolate and dreary than ever. All her life she had breathed the country air and the stuffy city congestion was so overwhelming to the point that she felt dizzy. But she did her best to push forward through the filth, perched atop her horse, hidden beneath the brim of her father's working hat. With her crimson locks tucked away, she resembled a gangly young boy.
Satelle feigned silence, pretending to be mute and unable to speak, bartering her way through the streets of the congested town. She sold Tiger for a three days ration of food. The very act of selling her father's work horse was enough to make her want to surrender her position, give up and turn back. But she knew that she was capable of doing what she had set out to accomplish in the first place. She refused to give up that easily.
Satelle quickly found herself amongst a gang of sailors and did her best to blend into the background. Before she knew it, she was on board a ship of mongrels, doing all that she could to hide from the monstrous men that made up the crew. She was at sea for nearly three months, struggling to keep her gender a secret but managing to reveal it to no one. When the ship finally made port, she was the first to evacuate the deck and scampered off in the shadows, hoping no one would notice her slinking off. Little did she know, the Irish ship had docked in Tortuga. Satelle brought what little belongings she had, which consisted of a small brown satchel with a tattered wash cloth, a letter from her mother, ripped and frayed, and a picture Ronnie had drawn of her family when he was but four. She stepped onto dry land and staggered about a bit, a little flustered at the fact that she had just started to gain her sea legs only to be thrown onto land once again. All she wanted to do was lie down. But first---she had to find a place to do so. She had managed to snatch her wages as a 'sailor' aboard the Irish vessel before fleeing, along with a piece of dried fish for later.
She approached a two-story building, a balcony packed with people over-indulging themselves with ale and carnal infatuations. Where in the world had she discovered herself? She rapped at the door, finding it to be left ajar and it swung open with her mechanical knocks. She wearily walked in and spotted a woman sitting at a counter to the far right. She laid a shiny silver coin on the counter in front of the haggard old lady who seemed either half-conscience of half dead, Satelle could not decide. "A room please?" She said in a coy voice, trying her hardest to be heard over the raucous in the next room. The old woman grunted and tossed her head in the direction of a staircase. Satelle blinked at her, looking over her shoulder and seeing the spiraling steps climbing behind her. The woman did nothing else, her wrinkled face stuck to the palm of her hand as her arm remained planted, elbow down on the splintering counter top. "Hmm." Satelle murmured. She made her way up the creaking stairs, opening the door to the first room on the right and finding that it was occupied and to her surprised--left unlocked! She gasped, placing her hand to her pink lips, closing the door as quickly as she had opened it. She moved down the hall a little further, biting her bottom lip awkwardly as she reached out her hand for the final door at the end of the hall, the key protruding from the key hole.
She turned the crystal knob, pocketing the key and looking over her shoulder suspiciously, then peaking into the room slightly before finding it to be empty. With that, she fled into the room, slammed it shut, locked it, and pressed her back firmly against the wooden door with a heavy sigh. "What have I gotten myself into?" She asked herself, desperate and refusing to allow herself to think about how lonely she felt at that moment. She longed to get cleaned up, bathe and rid herself of the stench of the ocean. But she needed clothes and had none but the ones on her back. She pulled herself from up against the door, removing her hat and letting her hair floating down in red ringlets, almost reaching the small of her back. But to her surprise, a knock at her door made her hurriedly place the hat back on her head as she looked around the room frantically. There was no telling who lingered on the other side of the door. She cleared her throat, making an attempt to sound as 'masculine' as possible. "Urrm--yes--who is it?" The moment she opened her mouth, she felt like a fool and slapped her palm against her forehead, squinting her eyes in embarrassment. She waited for a response from the other side before she dared open the door. But as if things could get no worse, the doorknob began to turn as she heard the sound of a key rearranging pins in the lock. She stared, perplexed, feeling the strong urge to hide beneath the bed from the intruder that would soon make their identity known...
green finch and linnet bird;;
nightengale, black bird! How is it you sing?
