Name: Abigail Aurelia Renoir
Age: 19
Homeplace: France
Hair: Sandy blonde
Eyes: Hazel
Height: Five foot
Weight: One should never ask a lady her weight, oui?
Parents: Lucille Carianna Luceau(deceased)and
Pierre Francois Renoir(deceased)
Siblings: Older brothers Jacque and Remy(whereabouts unknown)



Some people claim, that when one looks to the world with awe and wonderment, with nothing but the best of hopes and expectations, that they are looking at the world through "rose-colored glasses" non? If this is the case, young Abbie was born with them on for she still believes, at best, that the world is filled with butterflies and tulips. Of course, she also believed that at the root of all things, people are still decent and good. Despite the turmoils that she has endured within her life.

Abigail was born as the youngest child of Pierre and Lucille Renoir, not that she ever truly knew her mother. She passed during childbirth. Yet, her father was good enough to never hold it over Abbie's head for such a thing. Her father simple said, "It was God's way", and he seemed to accept that. Her brothers though, were another story. Jacque and Remy were proud and arrogant youth, the children of a cobbler should not have been so fool-headed, but they were. Each of them went off to join the military ranks once old enough, and left her to tend to her father as he grew on in years. At his death, he wished nothing more than for her to leave France and go see the world, become something, make something of herself.

She vowed with all her heart to do so.

She had not been thrust within the cruel world enough though, to know...to know that one must be born into privilege. That a woman must born into her place in the world. So she left France.

Her travels finally brought her to Northumbria. There are times she slips up into the nearest tree to watch the decadence of court over the Castle walls, longing someday to be within those walls, to be wearing such finery, living such life.

Reality though, is fastly coming upon her as she grows into adulthood. She can only but turn the next page in the novel of her life to read where her story heads.