myra webb {d2 - cb2 - fin}

Clutter surrounds her; boxes and boxes strewn across a clothes-littered floor to attract the queen's eight-legged subjects. She treats them as pets rather than pests. Harm them, and you will see her temper boil like water in a kettle. You can find crumbs from pastries hidden under the mazes in her bedroom. She is no stranger to insects, as they are meals for the creatures she obsesses over. She is as peculiar as they are, although never as patient.

Father lets none of the children leave their fortress of a home. Outsiders are dangerous; they play violent games that don't interest her, and make messes of their blood when there are finer luxuries in life. She ignores the boarded windows and locked doors in favor of simplicity. Her favorite tea set sits in the corner of her room. Morning is the prime time for tea parties with friends, when speckles of sunlight seep through the cracks between the wooden boards. She understands day and night but there is little need to seek them out; she is clockwork by herself.

She keeps her last name because she knows her blood is different. Regardless, they are all family. She bakes for everyone who is generous, and those who continue the trend are invited to her tea parties. Her wishlist is spent on ingredients, tea sets, and pointless trinkets.

She knows she is reserved and distant; strange compared to the others. She's not as willing to socialize and conform, but she will never turn away from a gentle soul.

Just be sure to stay on her good side.