blanche de la cruz || district ten || cb || fin

The first thing to know about living 'round these parts is that if you're ever gonna survive in the line of work that I've chosen, you're gonna learn how to adapt on the fly.

In my area of the district, bein' a cowboy or cowgirl or cowwhatever isn't just somethin' you pick up for fun, it's a fuckin' lifestyle from beginning to end. Shepherding livestock, livin' your life on the dime, from one sunrise to the next - yeah, okay, maybe it is a wee bit unorthodox, but hey, I've never been one to follow the rules.

'Sides, you're known 'round here for your reputation. In the last coupla years, I've made the name for myself as the girl with the fastest whip crack this side of the Square and the girl who can tell the edibleness of a plant from fifty feet. Both exaggerations, of course, because hey, you never get far by sticking to what's realistic, but at least I can back em up. The whip story came with practice and the plant story with a little bit of cheatin' - Grandmama is an apothecary, after all, and I am one of the brighter bulbs in this section of the shed.

Hey, don't look at me like that. I did say I was never one to follow the rules, right? Call me edgy, call me a hooligan, whatever helps you sleep at night, hon. Just remember me when you're out on the pastures and you're not sure whether your next meal will feed you or kill you, mmmkay?