Larken Dobrieva ~*D10*~

Tell me that you want to see beauty and I will show you Wren. She was always prettier than me, but growing up the woods no one cares. My dark mousy brown hair never a brilliant as hers, my skin never as smooth. She was the gypsy girl I wanted to be. Instead I grew into the second fiddle, but it didn't matter. She was my twin. My cousin. Born on the same day to a pair of mothers who married a pair of brothers. We were soul twins carried in different bodies. She was the lighter fairer copy and I was the dark and brooding version.

I stood taller than some of the other girls we had run into in our times traveling, not quite as tall as a choke-berry bush, but almost. I'd say I was close to five foot eight inches tall. My body was muscular, strong, and sturdy from a childhood of moving and running. I wasn't heavy or thin or anything but just there. I could carry several large hunks of firewood without too much trouble and I could run for days on end. I was just clumsy sometimes and had the scars to prove it. A particularly gnarly one sits over my right knee from when Wren and I thought we could fly and jumped out of an old maple tree when we were about 6. I guess since we were named after birds we thought it would work. I landed on a broken branch and had to have the old lady who acted as our healer in our group sew up the gash. 11 stitches finally closed it, but the large raised bump serves as a reminder that sometimes and name is just a name.

I liked to think that I wasn't as dull as I pictured, but it was hard to see yourself in a mirror in the woods. I kept my hair cut short, around my chin, normally using a blade to just chop it off in uneven layers. It was less to clean, less to worry about getting tangled in things. My eyebrows were kind of bushy, and my nose a little too full. But my green eyes were worth looking at. They were not the deep mossy green of the forest floor, but they were a soft spring green that made me think of the first buds on the trees. The outer parts of them were a little darker but of all my features I loved them the best.

My face was a perfect oval, a little bump for a chin, and my mouth looked plump and full...til I smiled. My smile was wide and charming and with as large as my lips were you'd think it would be framed nicely, but instead my lips pull in til the top one nearly disappeared. My teeth were oddly perfect for growing up without proper dental care, only a the occasional scrub with a mint leaf or two.

The problem with being boring is little things like that make you so happy. I wasn't jealous of Wren in the slightest, we were too close for that. I just accepted that while she was pretty I was fun. Not that she wasn't fun with me, but in a larger group she was easy to fall to peer pressure and the feeling she had to make everyone happy.