Cautious — Sheep has learned to be careful and attentive to her surroundings, and recognizes that any situation can change for the worst in a blink of an eye. She's able to restore balance when tensions run high, and helps others make good decisions, like a good spirit. She also isn't afraid to ask questions, and lets every component weigh her decision making.

Compassionate — Sheep cares deeply for all living creatures, kin or not! She approaches all strangers with kindness, and listens attentively to those around her, genuinely interested in what they have to say. She tries her best to provide the best support for her little community, and generally has a strong connections with others. She never forgets a name or a face!

Dedicated — Sheep is willing to put in the time and effort to maintain her relationships with others, platonic or not! She goes above and beyond for anything she cares about, and doesn't let anything get in her way. She creates personal goals for herself, and always goes above and beyond them. Despite the weight on her shoulders, she holds her head high.

Introvert — Ever since she was a kit, Sheep had always preferred to be alone, quiet, and observant. Although noisy environments drain her, they help quiet her restless mind. She is content with spending time reflecting on her herbcraft, and is often found in her den fiddling and assorting her various herbs. She avoids small talk if necessary, but part of her still loves engaging with those around her.

Skeptic — Because she is so cautious, Sheep is hesitant on making decisions without concrete proof relating to the matter. She seeks out logical explanations, and doesn't take things at face-value. Everything doesn't happen for a reason, in her mind, because if they did, why would such a horrible thing happen to her family? Although she is skeptical about most things, she especially has her doubts regarding the afterlife. She is generally guarded about how she feels regarding the afterlife, but is able to discuss it if necessary.

Resentful — Because she lost her family suddenly and without any reason, she is quite resentful to the world around her. She still feels confused, angry, and helpless, always asking herself if there was something she missed, something she could've changed about that night. She struggles with feelings of guilt, even if it was outside of her control. Sheep is still, understandably, still bitter about the tragedy.

PTSD — Sheep struggles with reoccurring memories and thoughts related to the burning of the farm. She often has nightmares about the accident, leaving her crying and shrieking in her sleep. She tries her best to avoid the area where the farm used to be, and is dedicated to never tell another soul about it. She often feels like she's still trapped in a haze, and struggles to form meaningful relationships with others beyond the surface level. Sheep is terrified of fire - when she sees flames, she remembers her siblings clawing their way out of the barn, and can feel the heat all over her fur and paws again.

Sheep was born into a large, loving family of pacifist cats who resided in the two-leg outskirts, where a quiet two-leg took care of his farm. Sheep’s parents were the two-legs designated mousers and were encouraged to create more kits to help with the endless task of mouse-hunting. Her parents, a large brown tabby tom named Chester, and a small black molly named Lady, were infatuated with their large family. In total, Sheep was part of a litter of five total – their names were Rowan, Sweet Pea, Butternut, and Midnight. However, Sheep had dozens of other older siblings, and they all cared for one another.
As a kit, Sheep was much smaller, and more on the quiet and reserved side. Instead of causing a ruckus in the barn, or chasing her littermates through the moo-field, she preferred to linger like a wallflower, and take in her surroundings slowly. Despite Sheep being the odd one of their family, Chester and Lady doted on their daughter, and encouraged her to be herself.
Although mousing was a full-time job, Chester and Lady managed to find some time on the side to become knowledgeful of the herbs and berries that grew on the farm. They taught themselves how to treat cuts, hurting bellies, sore throats – all sorts of things! They also learned how to identify these herbs. Chester and Lady expanded this knowledge onto their children, including Sheep. They also assisted any cat that came to them in need of their herbcraft and used their children to help deliver herbs to different areas not too far from the farm.
Sheep became infatuated with herbcraft. She assisted their parents with picking the herbs and answered every question they asked correctly. She eventually learned different ways of mixing and mashing the herbs to treat different conditions, and by the time Sheep was 6 moons old, Chester and Lady entrusted her with helping her siblings deliver the herbs to others. She only had a pawful of deliveries to make each day and loved every second of it. It was truly what she was destined to do, and with her family at her side, she knew she could do it.
Unfortunately, good things don’t last forever. Tragedy struck when several of her siblings went missing while making deliveries. After search parties were sent out to find them, all that was discovered was torn herbs, and bloody fur embedded on the ground. Filled with confusion and grief over their missing kits, Chester and Lady forbid leaving the farm and making deliveries. With a heavy heart and swirling mind over what happened, Sheep buried herself in the farmwork – she began to help her siblings hunt the rodents as well, and when there weren’t any mice to chase, she studied the herbs around her, watching them grow day and night.
On one of these nights, Sheep lingered near the wooden fence line of the farm, watching over a thicket of red berries and away from her sleeping family in the barn. The moon was round and bright in the sky, almost making the farm glow in the darkness. Although it had been almost a moon since the disappearance of her siblings, she still found herself filled with grief and anger – she was losing sleep over it. However, with the moon so bright and the night so calm, she figured she could attempt to sleep. She curled underneath the berry bush, and soon drifted off to sleep.
The shrieks and wails of farm animals awoke her, and the fur on her back immediately began to rise. In the distance, she could see shadows of cats running in different directions, and a fiery red glow coming from the barn. With horror, she realized the very barn her family slept in every night was on fire. She bolted to the barn to try and help and could see the two-leg shouting and running as it tried to evacuate the animals. As Sheep ran towards the barn, she could see some cats clawing and squirming their way out of the holes in the barn, their fur smoking and black, only to collapse once they were out. Some of her family ran towards the moo-field but were quickly trampled by the frightened cattle. Others were still trapped in the barn, their loud screams quieting as the fire grew bigger and bigger. Frozen in the chaos, Sheep could only watch as the burning barn began to creak and moan – it collapsed, with most of her family still inside. Everything was silent. She couldn’t hear herself screaming. But she did hear a familiar sound – her father’s voice, shrill but present in the distance.
Sheep sprinted towards her father, desperate to see him. She found him underneath the house’s porch, covered in burns and bloody. She attempted to use the weeds in her surroundings to treat his wounds, but it was useless. He wasn’t savable, and they both knew it. As the life seeped from him, he croaked his words to her: “I’m here, my little Sheep…. you saved me.” With a weak smile, the light faded from his green eyes, and he became limp under her paws. As the flames swept through the farm, Sheep knew she had to leave her fathers body, and leave behind her home, her family. She quickly escaped to the fence line, the hot flames tinging her fur as she ran.
The small black molly lived in a daze for several moons after the burning of the farm, traveling across the grasslands with the memories burning a hole in her heart. She stayed away from outsiders and kept to herself. She still tended to the plant life that surrounded her, clinging onto the only thing she has left from her family. One morning as she hunted for breakfast, she stumbled across an injured tomcat. The black and white tom had several fighting wounds that weren’t looking too good. Without hesitation, Sheep beckoned him to follow her to her densite. The tom was confused but had no other choice besides succumbing to the wounds and followed her. There, she treated his wounds and allowed him to rest in the den with her. She hunted for the two of them, and they ate their meal quietly, neither saying a word to each other. After a few days of this routine of hunting for them and treating his wounds, the tomcat felt well enough to leave. With a “You saved me…thank you,” he left her alone in the den.
Despite being alone, Sheep felt a spark ignite inside her once more, and tears welled in her eyes. She saved him. She finally saved him. Sheep sobbed alone in her den, tears of both hysteric joy and anguish. She knew what she was meant to do. Despite her tragic past, Sheep clung to the thought of honoring her family through the healing of herbcraft. She became determined to make her family proud, imagining them watching over her, and now treats any cat she comes across who is sick or injured. She currently resides in the grasslands, continuing to master her craft, and hopes to create a tranquil life free from pain and suffering.

A petite, smoky black long-haired molly with whispy fur, half of a white face and throat, with clear blue eyes, and white back paws. Her paws are small - the paw pads are scarred horribly with burn scars.