Long-limbed gracefulness and poise seem writ in every aspect of her elegant carriage. Exquisite charm evident in the haughty tilt of her narrowly pointed chin and the smooth lines of her jaw. Her eyes, luminously bright — of a hue the shade of the summer sky — are wide, sultry-lidded and rimmed by long lashes as dark as her hair. There's a definite quirk to the shape of them, somewhat arched and vaunted. Her height is of average size, although she might not be not as tall as some, she's certainly not petite and delicate in stature. Generously curved enough in all the right places to flatter a young woman's appreciation of blossoming womanhood, she could well be considered pretty enough to warrant more than a first look. Her hair, darkest brown, is a startling contrast against her fine, pale complexion.
Fashion speaks of shabby genteel; homespun brocade — rather than sisal and velvet — makes up her gown, although such a garment as she wears could certainly be seen upon her betters. From the square-necked bodice, patterned in a fanciful pattern of loops and whorls and other shapes, it tapers neatly to her waist, skirts falling in heavy folds to the ground. The sleeves of this dress cover her arms, falling elegant and full down about her wrists. Dainty wher-hide slippers encase her feet, and her hair is neatly twisted into a simple bun coif at the top of her head.
Growing up wild amongst the traders' wagons suited such a social butterfly as Natali — for such as it was, she was the only child of the traders, Ryrni and Illidara; and thus much spoiled and indulged. Apt to begin flirting in her early teens, she was a vexation to the boys of the trader caravan, although her escapades amongst them never quite made it past the kissing and teasing stage. As her father was the head trader of that particular caravan group, she was pampered, petted and made much of — which in turn inflated her sense of self-importance. Therefore, she reasoned, the boys she grew up amongst were not nearly worthy of her — they were fit only for practicing her charms upon.
Thus, Natali grew older: impetuous, lively and daring. From her father, she learned cunning and the glib platitudes of the traders who wished to flatter and cajole their customers (which still getting the upper hand in the deal) and from her mother, she learned the manners of a lady (although not a Blooded one) so that she might still be able to carry a conversation with poise and character. Her father encouraged this, thinking perhaps that were he required to leave his place as the headmost trader to his daughter, having a certain degree of more refined charm would not be a poor decision, diplomatically speaking. She grew to desire wealth, and the trappings of a luxurious life, setting her sights on the great ones — the Lords and their Heirs — of the Holds the caravan passed by. She wanted what they had, or something similar to it.
She desired to rise above her station, become more than a mere (if successful and well-off) merchant's daughter, but whilst her goals and dreams may have been grand indeed, her means were not — and she needs must bide her time until such a chance should come to pass that she could carry them out.
Searched at the very gates of Southern Boll itself by a brownrider from Fort Weyr, Natali was brought to that place to stand as a candidate for the clutch of eggs upon the sands. While life at the Weyr was less than ideal for her, she had to adapt (and truly disliked some of the chores she was required to do.) Alas, her chances upon the sands when Hatching time came did not pan out, and she returned to the life of the trader, settling back into her familiar comforts of the wagon and the road.
She was not to stay there for long however. Her father wished to explore the possibility of southern trade, and sent his brother, Ormond, south to Xanadu Weyr. As the older man had never actually been to a Weyr, Natali was sent along as the 'experience' of the family with the understanding that her uncle was to be her guardian. There she made friends, and was on hand when Kilaueth clutched her eggs. In fact, it was not more than a few moments afterwards that her friend, bronzerider N'shen, asked her to stand as a candidate.
Maybe the second time will be her good luck…
|Illidara||Mother||Between Fort & Southern Boll||Trader|
|Ryrni||Father||Between Fort & Southern Boll||Trader|
|Ormond||Uncle||Between Fort & Southern Boll||Trader|
Hidden in Plain Sight Brown Pembroke
At first glance, he's an ordinary brown firelizard - lithe and limber, mid-sized, with no unusual markings to set him apart from any of his other brethren. Yet, looks can be deceiving, and closer inspection reveals that beneath the plain, almost bland exterior is a firelizard without equal. Under the rich reddish-brown hide, lean muscles wrap about sturdy bones, granting strength and endurance unending. His lines are clean, long, fine bones granting him an aerodynamic structure aided by long, tapered wings, a pale golden-brown shot through with silvery highlights. Intelligence and an otherworldly wisdom glitters in his whirling eyes, set high atop an unremarkable, wedge-shaped head. At the tips of his long-fingered fore- and hind-paws, silver talons shine with a decidedly metallic tang.
Hop on Over Green Bess
This compact little green is all curves and soft edges, her head more round than wedge-shaped, and her wings short, almost stubby. They're still plenty large enough to carry her aloft, the membranes a vivid, nearly eye-searing shade of chartreuse. The rest of her chubby body is covered in a more reasonable hue, the color watered down to something almost mossy, yet no less vibrant. A very slight paleness tints the skin around her belly and along beneath her tail and neck, fading just under her jaw. The firelizard's forelegs are delicate things, though her hindquarters are much sturdier, with ample hips and well defined muscle down her long legs. Claws as blue as a mountain lake beneath clear skies tip stuby toes, her feet bathed in a muddier shade of green. Despite being fairly rotund, this girl does seem to have endless energy, even when at rest, the barest jitter always visible, be it the twitching of a wingtip or the flicking of an all too-active tongue.
The Most Happy Green Sicealth
Spring-kissed meadow's verdant vibrancy slicks over lithe, limber form, eye-blindingly bright from nose to tail-tip before paling to lemongrass' tart touch along her underside. Bursts of orange dance across slender muzzle, trail over upraised eye ridge to gather atop wedge-shaped head in a crown of copper blossoms. Argent-brushed ridges twist their way along lean back, thrust up from pasture's lush brilliance in a wandering dance from head-top to spine-base. From shoulders spring moonbeams, silver spars stretching outward, between them secured sails of translucent gossamer. A rainbow's wealth of iridescence teases the eye in swirls and eddies across pale, silken wings, ever-changing patterns exploding with each minute movement. Long and slender - dainty, for all her size - her every movement, from the lash of long, twisting tail to the tread of delicate feet, is one step from an all-out dance.