Annabel

Annabel, the Hopeful Scholar

She joined the clan a lone, lost child, like many of the others. The arcanic wilderness was a mysterious place churning with magic, all too easy to fall prey to the steep hills and dark, twisting caves. She barely remembers any time before she was found by Albion, who took her in to the clan in their golden era. He promised to give her a happy home, and named her Annabel.

Annabel grew up under the wings of Albion, a little sister by heart, if not by blood. She breathed the smoke of rebellion and flew amongst the curious stars, but found her home in a workshop, at his side. She spent her days surrounded by notes, and her nights breathing in the fresh air on mountain flights. She would stargaze with the elders, play pranks with the purple tricksters, and was beloved by many in the clan. She was, after all, a cheerful soul, unburdened by the political tension Albion protected her from. She didn't know the savage ways that many of her species had originated from, and was a peaceful soul, against fighting.

She didn't know pain.

She didn't know what it meant to struggle.

And then, the accident. A long day of studies, and a longer night of flying. One trip-up on a sharp mountain peak, and one of her wings was torn to shreds. Suddenly, Annabel knew what it meant to hurt, what it meant to miss what she had once taken for granted. She ached for the freedom she once had, and the solution seemed obvious to Albion; the two of them, with the help of other members of the clan, would help her to craft a prosthetic wing, perfectly functional. She buried herself in her studies, and one of the clan's leaders, Bessarion, who was also mechanically inclined, was more than willing to help them.

It was thanks to him that they made the final breakthrough on the project, and when Annabel's wings were once again whole, both her and Albion promised to devote their lives to Bessarion; their loyalty was pure and nearly unbreakable.

Then... came the times of war. The clan split, and even as Bessarion's more inhumane experiments started, Annabel never strayed from his side. She was loyal through and through, and simply wanted her lab, her research, and her wings. She did all she could to avoid the conflict, the mere thought dampening her mood entirely. She holds high hopes to make it through with no more injury, and no need for her to lift a claw in defense of anyone, but she cannot help worrying. She's never understood politics or war. They seemed unnecessary, and yet here she was, caught up in an absolute mess within the thriving clan she had once adored. She does not wish to leave, but she cannot help the despair that clouds her thoughts. Would peace ever truly be restored...?

Inspiration: Annabel's Lament, Dolls of New Albion

Adopted through Write/Draw to Adopt Hatchery!

Art by the amazingly talented Anhinga!