Hiriffa "Hira" Softpaw
Hiriffa's earliest memories are of her mother singing to her while she braids her hair. She finds herself looking back on that sometimes and wondering who she might have been if that had been her real life. The two of them lived with her uncle who had taken in her mother, single and with child, and her mother had cooked for his tavern when Hira was very young.
After her mother died the tavern began to struggle and her uncle turned to drinking more days than not. By the time Hira was eight the place was frequented by the lowest sort, only those who couldn't afford to go elsewhere. Her uncle encouraged her to not be in the tavern while there were patrons and though this left the small girl in the streets most evenings even she knew it was probably for the better.
She began her evening outings almost by accident, she was small and plain enough to go unnoticed and with just a bit of practice found herself incredibly light on her feet, after just a few weeks she could pass through the crowd in the outer streets with almost no notice.
The first time she stole it was food, a small roll off of a late food stall three streets over, busy with workers heading home. Hira stood in the ally that had lead her to the street trying to still her breath and heartbeat. She had decided to try, the hunger gnawing encouragingly in her belly. The proprietor began a somewhat heated conversation with a patron, seemingly a price dispute, and Hira knew this was her best chance. She moved into the crowd, holding her breath as if she could drown in the stream of passers-by. She moved at pace with the rest of the crowd, difficult on her short legs, and put a hand out as she passed the stall, taking the first thing it fell upon without glancing up. It took all her effort not to give herself away by breaking into a run, but she had seen too many prospective thieves caught that way, her pulse hammered in her throat as she forced herself to keep pace with the crowd until she reached the next ally. She ducked thankfully out of sight and only then examined her prize. Then small bun was warm and golden brown; the floured bottom had marked her out and she decided it best to eat quickly and head home before the proprietor knew he had a thief to look for. When she took a bite she made an involuntary noise of surprise and delight, the soft, mildly sweet bread was stuffed with spiced meat. She devoured her ill-gotten dinner and scurried off back towards the tavern, dusting herself off as much as she could in the process.
After that night she became more confident, stealing as needed to support herself. She began picking pockets as well as stealing from open stalls and one night she even crept into a clothiers who had mistakenly left an upper window unlatched. She climbed back down the wall with the first new outfit she'd ever owned.
At twelve she fancied herself a pretty competent thief and had been working on figuring out how to do more with her skills than merely feed herself. She knew there were people who would buy stolen goods but she was at a loss about how to find one. It wasn't exactly like they had it posted in their shops. She had the vague idea but very little hope that she could find another thief and make them tell her who they sold to. To this end she began spending more evenings creeping around the parts of town that had more to steal. She spent her time wistfully contemplating how she would break into the noble houses once she had a reason to, forming intricate plans that excited her so much she had almost decided to try one out, with or without a fence to sell to afterward.
Her life took a drastic change when, in the market one day she saw something odd. In the display on a jeweler's stall she saw a pendant, the setting was unburnished, possibly pewter to her eye and the perfectly round stone in the center was the opaque red of carnelian. She wasn't sure what about it drew her eye, it didn't look like an expensive, or even particularly well made piece but it was elegant in a simple way, not tacky like she would have expected from a red stone. The owner of the stall clearly didn't seem to value it, he didn't even glance at it as he called out his other pieces to passers-bye. Looking back Hira knew she should have known, it was too easy, literally begging to be stolen, it should have set off all kind of alarm bells in her head. But it didn't, and she didn't, and before she knew it the pendant was in her pocket, thumb caressing the stone as she held it to prevent the chain from chiming as she hurried through the crowd. A strange sort of warmth filled her chest but she wrote it off as excitement over her flawless theft.
She would often in the days to come, find herself wishing she had cast the cursed thing into the sea then when she had the chance.
After her mother died the tavern began to struggle and her uncle turned to drinking more days than not. By the time Hira was eight the place was frequented by the lowest sort, only those who couldn't afford to go elsewhere. Her uncle encouraged her to not be in the tavern while there were patrons and though this left the small girl in the streets most evenings even she knew it was probably for the better.
She began her evening outings almost by accident, she was small and plain enough to go unnoticed and with just a bit of practice found herself incredibly light on her feet, after just a few weeks she could pass through the crowd in the outer streets with almost no notice.
The first time she stole it was food, a small roll off of a late food stall three streets over, busy with workers heading home. Hira stood in the ally that had lead her to the street trying to still her breath and heartbeat. She had decided to try, the hunger gnawing encouragingly in her belly. The proprietor began a somewhat heated conversation with a patron, seemingly a price dispute, and Hira knew this was her best chance. She moved into the crowd, holding her breath as if she could drown in the stream of passers-by. She moved at pace with the rest of the crowd, difficult on her short legs, and put a hand out as she passed the stall, taking the first thing it fell upon without glancing up. It took all her effort not to give herself away by breaking into a run, but she had seen too many prospective thieves caught that way, her pulse hammered in her throat as she forced herself to keep pace with the crowd until she reached the next ally. She ducked thankfully out of sight and only then examined her prize. Then small bun was warm and golden brown; the floured bottom had marked her out and she decided it best to eat quickly and head home before the proprietor knew he had a thief to look for. When she took a bite she made an involuntary noise of surprise and delight, the soft, mildly sweet bread was stuffed with spiced meat. She devoured her ill-gotten dinner and scurried off back towards the tavern, dusting herself off as much as she could in the process.
After that night she became more confident, stealing as needed to support herself. She began picking pockets as well as stealing from open stalls and one night she even crept into a clothiers who had mistakenly left an upper window unlatched. She climbed back down the wall with the first new outfit she'd ever owned.
At twelve she fancied herself a pretty competent thief and had been working on figuring out how to do more with her skills than merely feed herself. She knew there were people who would buy stolen goods but she was at a loss about how to find one. It wasn't exactly like they had it posted in their shops. She had the vague idea but very little hope that she could find another thief and make them tell her who they sold to. To this end she began spending more evenings creeping around the parts of town that had more to steal. She spent her time wistfully contemplating how she would break into the noble houses once she had a reason to, forming intricate plans that excited her so much she had almost decided to try one out, with or without a fence to sell to afterward.
Her life took a drastic change when, in the market one day she saw something odd. In the display on a jeweler's stall she saw a pendant, the setting was unburnished, possibly pewter to her eye and the perfectly round stone in the center was the opaque red of carnelian. She wasn't sure what about it drew her eye, it didn't look like an expensive, or even particularly well made piece but it was elegant in a simple way, not tacky like she would have expected from a red stone. The owner of the stall clearly didn't seem to value it, he didn't even glance at it as he called out his other pieces to passers-bye. Looking back Hira knew she should have known, it was too easy, literally begging to be stolen, it should have set off all kind of alarm bells in her head. But it didn't, and she didn't, and before she knew it the pendant was in her pocket, thumb caressing the stone as she held it to prevent the chain from chiming as she hurried through the crowd. A strange sort of warmth filled her chest but she wrote it off as excitement over her flawless theft.
She would often in the days to come, find herself wishing she had cast the cursed thing into the sea then when she had the chance.
Alignment
Chaotic Nuetral
Current Location
Age
18
Children
Eyes
Dark chocolate brown, almost black
Hair
long rich brown worn in a braid under her hood
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