[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/7QcY5pX.gif[/img][h2][color=f7976a]Enna Marlies[/color][/h2][/center]

Sweat beaded down her face, dotting her forehead like ad diadem of diamonds. Her lungs squeezed in her chest with every lumbering step she stole and her shoulder seared with a hot, fiery pain. Yet still she trudged on through the woods, the front of the log resting on her shoulder. Behind her, a man of forty years panted as he carried the backend of the dead tree. The sounds of their exhausted coughs created a melody of hard work and their tensing muscles were a graceless dance of labor. Every step was hell, but they continued to carry the burden proudly. It was only when they reached a small house that they stopped to rest.

It was a modest house on the outskirts of Krukow, Krukow and was surrounded by the woods. On the porch, in her favorite rocking chair, was Merrybeth, the slaving girl’s mother and the slat-and-pepper haired man’s wife. In her lap was a thick book detailing court laws and was torn, bended, and generally overused. Though, it didn’t matter how used it was, as Merrybeth almost never had the opportunity to put the knowledge to good use; they lived in a small town, on a small island, after all. Upon seeing them, Merrybeth waved her hand elegantly, tan appendage that swayed like the wind, and beckoned the duo over.

“You’re back from Kuiper already, mom?” The girl inquired, though the answer was evident, and flicked a russet lock from her just-as-red eyes.
“Obviously.” Merrybeth answered with a wry twist of her lips. “Why don’t you fix me some tea, Enna?”

The now named Enna frowned, but moved towards the door anyways. Merrybeth mad an ‘ah’ sound and Enna halted, glancing at her mother in question. However, Merrybeth wasn’t looking at her. The tan woman fixed her ruby eyes on her husband and crooked a finger at him, gesturing excitedly towards a book that lay next to her on a small table.

“Jack, dear, I got you a book for arming.” Merrybeth announced, before smiling a smile that Enna knew well. It was the fox-like demeaning grin that Enna had learned to duplicate so well. “Now, you can do something actually useful.”

Like a well-done bomb, Jack blew up. His face became an aggravated purple and his veins bulged from his neck, like bridges on flat land. Muscles once tired became reenergized as he flexed them irately.

“Merrybeth,” he warned, his voice a deep, guttural growl.

“What?” Enna’s mother asked innocently, cocking her head to the side.

Enna bit her lip and decided that it was not to be part of this quarrel. “I’m going to hang out with my friends, bye!”

Despite her uncharacteristic squeak, her parents paid her no mind and she rushed from the house and into the distance.

The town of Krukow was only a couple minutes time from her house and Enna arrived in just five minutes. While she excused herself to hang with friends, the truth was that Enna didn’t really have any. What can she say? She was a temperamental, judgmental bitch. She got it from her mother.

While Enna wishes she could say that Merrybeth hasn’t always been like that, she couldn’t because she has. As long as Enna has known her – her whole sixteen year long life – Merrybeth has been picking fights left and right. If her opponent just happened to be her husband, Jack, she got bonus points. Merrybeth just loved being in the center of chaos, thrived in it, and maybe that’s why she was lawyer. It didn’t necessarily make her a bad person – she was just DIFFERENT from the regular bunch of saps that lived in the little town. To Enna, her mother was a great character. Yes, Enna hated chaos. Yes, Enna hated their fights. Yes, Enna generally didn’t like conflict. But, damnit it all, her mother was amazing. Since she’s been born, Enna wished to be her mother. Someone different and unique. Maybe that’s why Enna imitated her aggravating habit of picking fights until, somewhere along the line, it became her own personality. When someone fell, Enna had to laugh. When someone said something extremely stupid, Enna had to point it out. Who was she to disappoint her soul’s inner desires?

Maximus Hunters rushed past Enna, knocking into her aching shoulder and nearly tipping her sideways.

“Oi, bastards!” Enna shouted in as strangled voice, caught off guard. She shook an angry fist at the two and even flipped a rather nasty gesture at their backs, but they didn’t bother apologizing.

“Damn it all.” She muttered under her breath, glancing around the town and attempting to rub off the anger that surged with in her veins.

If she inherited her mother’s bitchiness, then she inherited her father’s anger.