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Name ; Abigail Fuchs

Nickname ; Abby,, Gail,, Gilly by close friends only

Age ; 13

Gender ; Female

Sexuality ; Demisexual,, meaning she's only attracted to people she's close to.

Appearance ; Abby wears her shockingly bright, long, curly, and outright unruly hair in a loose ponytail most of the time-- often tying it with string or a bandanna instead of an actual hairband. She tends to wear loose, baggy clothing, such as over sized tie-dyed t-shirts and black pants. Abby has feet that look to belong to someone else, as she hasn't quite,, grown into them. Due to her not so small predicament, she rarely wears shoes, and her feet have toughened up enough not to be punctured by shards of glass that someone carelessly left on the ground. Abby's face is mottled with freckles, and she has bright green eyes. She enjoys showing off her tongue piercing, which 'Frankly looks unsightly, ghastly even!" according to her parents, who where graced with an unwelcome surprise when she came home late from a trip w/ her friends one day.

Personality ; Abigail is generally carefree, but when given a job the free-spirit goes out the window, able to concentrate on her task with ease. She likes having one thing to look at, quickly analyzing the bigger picture ((and often missing a lot of things she could've easily noticed, if she'd given the time)) as quickly as possible and getting to the deep down. Her self-esteem is fairly low, however, she'll never admit it. Abby likes to be seen as independent, confident, and not needing help from anyone, thus getting highly discouraged when paired with other people to get things done, for w/e reason there is.

The 'reason' usually circles around her being a huge, disorganized, mess,, as Abby is very impulsive and likely to jump into things without second thought. She enjoys climbing, but she's otherwise too uncoordinated to do anything w/ legit everything,, and tends to use her hands instead,, thus muscle arms which she enjoys showing off. Hates having to rely on people.

Crush ; Open - Palpad !!

Other ; Abby was raised in a wealthy family with the highest of standards and the snootiest of laughter. Please scream at me to shut up if my posts ever get too long I'm sorry

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Name ; Abigail Fuchs

Sexuality ; Asexual Panromantic

Age ; 26

Gender ; Fem

Appearance ; Abby wears her shockingly bright, long, curly, and outright unruly hair in a loose ponytail most of the time-- often tying it with string or a bandanna instead of an actual hairband. When not doing her 'work', she tends to wear loose, baggy clothing, such as over sized tie-dyed t-shirts and black pants. Abby has feet that look to belong to someone else, as she hasn't quite,, grown into them. Due to her not so small predicament, she rarely wears shoes, and her feet have toughened up enough not to be punctured by shards of glass that someone carelessly left on the ground. Abby's face is mottled with freckles, and she has bright green eyes. She enjoys showing off her tongue piercing, which 'Frankly looks unsightly, ghastly even!" according to her parents, who where graced with an unwelcome surprise when she turned 18.

Personality ; Abigail is generally carefree, but when given a job the free-spirit goes out the window, able to concentrate on her task with ease. She likes having one thing to look at, quickly analyzing the bigger picture ((and often missing a lot of things she could've easily noticed, if she'd given the time)) as quickly as possible and getting to the deep down. Her self-esteem is fairly low, however, she'll never admit it. Abby likes to be seen as independent, confident, and not needing help from anyone, thus getting highly discouraged when paired with other people to get things done, for w/e reason there is.

The 'reason' usually circles around her being a huge, disorganized, mess,, as Abby is very impulsive and likely to jump into things without second thought. She enjoys climbing, but she's otherwise too uncoordinated to do anything w/ weapons,, and tends to use her hands instead,, thus muscle arms which she enjoys showing off.

Backstory ; Abby was raised in a wealthy family with the highest of standards and the snootiest of laughter. As soon as she was old enough to leave home, she did just that, separating herself entirely from her parents, who try to pamper her. Abby denies their offerings of money, preferring to get things done herself. Hating to have to rely on people, and being stuck with her family ties,, she changed her last name from Aberdale to Fuchs asap.

Other ; Fuchs is a German last name for "Fox",, meaning someone is cunning & sly or has red hair,, can be both but leaning towards the second for her. She has terrible allergies and sneezes a heck of a lot.

Name: Marcie
Gender: Female
Pokemon: Salandit
Level: 23
Moves: Flamethrower, Venoshock, Dragon Breath, and Toxic
Crush: --
Kids: --
Other:

Name: Abigail Louis
Gender: Female
Weapon: She wears gloves with claws, which she rarely takes off. The claw parts can freeze whatever she touches,, but only at will.
Appearance: xx
Personality: Abby spaces out easily, and never wears shoes. When distracted, or just generally not caring enough to watch, Abby often freezes things she touches- and can usually be easily tracked down by the frosty footprints she leaves behind. Her skin is unusually cold to the touch, and she gets too hot really easily. Abby will often meow at you, or go 'nya',, because she feels like it. Why else.
Island: Ice
Crush: --
Other: --

Dunestrike sighed, listening to her beloved's footsteps as Warmheart fled the snow coated training hollow. A deep intake of breath, a tensing of muscle, a raised fore paw. A heartbeat later the first kit was dead. Its two siblings didn't seem to understand what'd happened, and continued to prod their sister's side. A choked sob ripped from Dunestrike's throat, and yet again, she raised her paw. The second kit was dead. Only one was left, the trembling she-fox finally grasping the situation. "I-I'm so sorry," The cream colored tabby rasped, collapsing on the ground, quietly releasing her grief for the loss of young lives.

The last kit hopped over to her, nuzzling the cat's muzzle, trying to get her to raise her head. "P-Please, run away or something!" She pleaded, trembling as the tiny creature curled up at her side, probably mistaking the tabby warrior for her mother. The kit didn't listen, and Dunestrike let out yet another sigh. "What am I to do with you, we haven't any queens- there's no one with milk!" Wait. A thought struck her, and the FrostClan warrior's mind was made. Picking up the scrap of fur by the scruff, Dunestrike dashed through the snow and back towards the camp.