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Rumple
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Thanks! I started writing it a while ago, and then I forgot about it. I just started writing on it again, so I'm trying to finish more.
It isn't about Rumple from OUAT, but it is slightly based on the fairytale of Rumplestiltkin.
Right. It's a pretty interesting tale, you should look it up.
Thanks. I was kind of bored so I decided to create them.
(view spoiler)[This is the beginning to a story I am writing. (hide spoiler)]
Flora
My hands work in a pattern, weaving the straw in and out into a intricate braid. By the time I am finished my fingers feel as if they could fall off, and the day has long integrated into the evening. When I weave the straw, it is the only thinking time I have, so I take as long as I can. Father usually sells my weavings at the market on Saturdays. Not many buy them, but he thinks it’s worth the effort. Sometimes we are lucky enough to have a customer, or two, buy them. But at the end of the day few coins are earned. Father still insists I make them, he calls it my ‘talent’.
I can hear Louise calling in for supper just as I tie the last knot. Then mother calls and I know I have to set my work down. My mother is a light hearted looking woman. With wavy Black hair tinged with gray, slicked back into a tightly woven braid. My father however is more strict looking, with green eyes and blondish brown hair. Luisa has my mother’s coal black hair, and my father’s stunning green eyes. Braken and Tallie are both blonde haired children with hazel nut eyes. I am the strange one in the family, eyes blue as a river, dirt coloured hair. Father says that I am special, and more beautiful then half the girls in the country. Sometimes I feel like Louise is jealous when boys gaze at me in the market. When we were girls she and I played together all the time, and were as close as friends. Lately she has grown distant and faraway. At dinner tonight it took three times asking her a question to get her to notice me. In her dreamy state, she tends to tune out. Her answer was frustrated and angry when I ask her what she is thinking of. “Why do you want to know, Flora?” She snaps back at me.