Bean Sidhe | Doe | Herd Member Picture

*Going to add a glowing markings/baubles reference soon, will link it here!*
Basic Information

Name: Bean Sidhe (BAHN-shae)
Nicknames: Sheelin (SHEE-lyn) Common Nickname.
Shee (SHEE) pet name used primarily by her sire (little-known)
Bonny (BONNEY)- pet name used only by her nurse. (not known to others)
Banshee (BAN-shee)- simiplified version of her given name- used as a sort of “title” for her by those she makes uncomfortable.
Gender: Doe/Female
Year of Birth: 751 of the New Age - 7 years old
Height: 7.1 hands
Build: Light
Phenotype: Sooty Amber Ivory Champagne Dun Smoky Fawn
Genotype: Ee/Aa/DD/nCr/nCh/StySty/fwsfws/rzrz
Eye Colour: Sea Green
Design Sheet:…

Sire: NPC- Not Present
Dam: NPC- Deceased
Bloodline: Oakfern
Magic Type: Water

Skill Points

Speed: 10 [Medium Level]
Stamina: 5 [Basic Level]
Strength: 0 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 5 points max)

Magic: 6 [Basic Level]
Herbs: 0 [Basic Level]

Experience: 0


+7 speed - base bonus
+3 stamina - base bonus
+3 speed - starter bonus
+2 stamina - starter bonus
+6 magic - starter bonus

Herd Information
Herd: Oakfern
Herd Position: Member

Personality: Bean Sidhe- or Sheelin, if you prefer- is certainly not considered “normal” by any fawnling standards, even her own herdmates. She is an outcast, though that is partially her own fault. Some superstitious fawnlings and young fawns are frightened by her strange looks coupled with her odd behavior, but this doesn’t seem to phase her much, unless she’s trying to make friends.
This doe appears very simple at first sight, and in a way, she is. She lives alone in her own little world most of the time, and does not tend to dwell on the past or future. Rarely she will get these moments of clarity where a bit of her more mature side reveals itself, but for the most part, she is rather airy.
Sheelin adores young ones and fawns, and would love to have one of her own, though most question her capability to function as a parent at her current state. She also loves small creatures, and is infatuated with owls, but she is not permitted by her sire to have one.
Perhaps her most interesting trait is her odd fascination with death. She does not comprehend an afterlife of any sort, but rather is curious about what this notion of “death” is. She started this interest as a mere fawn, but it was fanned by the death of her nurse when she was of weaning age. She is not violent or vengeful, and does not wish to inflict death on others, she is just bewildered by its meaning. Often she collects the carcasses of large cave spiders, fish, lizards, and the like, and stows them in little hidey-holes inside her den. She will watch a creature as it dies, pondering over the slow seeping out of life force. The idea of her own death does not frighten her, though she rarely considers the notion, since she tends to live mostly in the present.
When she meets other fawnlings, and is actually interested in them, she attempts to be gentle and kind, though her attitude can come across as overeager or odd. She loves fawns, despite some of them fearing her, and she steps on eggshells around them to try and make up for the event in her past where she caused harm to one.
She is rather blunt and oblivious when it comes to speaking, stating things as she sees them, and does not always consider tact. She is very different from her father in this sense, who is very heavy with his words and careful of how he speaks.
Sheelin is, at this moment in her life, pretty much incapable of hating any fawnling or creature. She doesn’t grasp love or hate, but only like or dislike. She does not hate the other herd members, though she will agree that they are “bad” and “need to be punished” because it’s what she was raised with. Since she tends to live on the outskirts of society, she has not attended a fawn sacrifice since she was very young, and did not comprehend its meeting, other than “punishing a bad fawnling.”
She is not brave, and can even be flighty at times- she’s not scared of death, but pain and confrontation frightens her, so she will flee from a “scary Fawnling” if she can. She does have a nose for discovery though, and will adventure onto the surface from time to time, picking around during the night, looking for larger, special bones to carry back.
She will find the owl pellets that the companions leave behind, and will pick through the fur, feathers, and bone, meticulously sorting them out into perfect piles to set around her hollow.
Upon learning more about the god of her herd during her training as a mage, Sheelin became enchanted with the idea of speaking with Gealach- though she does not understand the need for the trance-inducing lichens sacred to the shamans and oracle. She discovers and leaves “gifts” for the god- her form of an offering- and when she spends her quiet times, she tries to listen for him. But perhaps the oddest trait of her deviant religion created only for herself is her conversations that occur often with the god. She speaks to him as though he was a friend or older brother, as in her mind, he is like a friend. To this little lost doe, he is her closest and best friend, and she speaks to him often in her solitude. Luckily no Fawnling had heard her speak to the god- if any of the more religious Fawnlings heard her speak with such blasphemous familiarity; they would punish her, no doubt.
Sheelin suffers from attacks, that cause her to lash out and wail. Her heart races and her head pounds, and she feels as though the walls are closing in, yet stretching out forever. She can have these anywhere- she is neither claustrophobic nor agoraphobic, but sometimes the symptoms of these go alongside her attacks.
History: Most creatures would associate the loss of a mother shortly after her young is born as a tragedy- but it was never something that plagued Sheelin. Her mother has passed from infection shortly after having her, but since she never knew her, it never occurred to her to be bothered by this fact of her past. She had a mother in her nurse, Reaksa, another one of her father’s does whose fawn was born still just a few days before her own birth. She grew up at the side of this doe, who doted on her in place of her own lost child. Sheelin- or “Bonny”, as Reaksa insisted on calling her, was rather coddled and was fiercely guarded by her surrogate mother. She had no other siblings born that year, and they lived on the outskirts of the warren, so Sheelin grew up with few friends her age. Reaksa was worried that they would taunt the sweet little doe fawn, and so any meetings were brief and heavily monitored.
She was almost fully weaned off of milk when the protective force that had dictated her life for so long was gone. The lichen looked normal- no one would have thought that it was, in fact, the toxic cousin of a tasty poison-mimicking treat. By the time that the doe had gone still, little Sheelin had little chance to react- she was only able to stare with her eyes opened wide and her limbs locked. It was then when her strange relationship with Death truly spawned- she did not understand the emptiness of the body Reaksa’s soul left behind, and would question it, ponder about it, and try to discover it for years after the terrible day.
It saddened her, and she did feel the empty part of her life that came with the loss of her nurse- but with the loss of her nurse came the loss of all the strict boundaries and protective walls that had been around her before. She was now free to do as she wished, for the most part. She slept in her father’s den, but with his patrols as a guard, and his other duties, she ended up being left alone for broad stretches of time.
Now, finally, perhaps this odd little doe could make some friends. She would lurk in the tunnels and caverns, watching the other younglings with her big eyes all aglow, wanting to be a part, but still not sure of when to step in. Eventually she took to getting to the play-places before all the others, early in the morn, and lying by the underground pools, settling down to watch them play their silly games.
The day where she pieces together a conversation, a real conversation, to have with one of them, was a day that ended with disaster.
At that point in life, Sheelin was older than most of the young fawnlings, so despite her small build, she was of equal size to the biggest of the offspring. She approached them as though they were birds that would flap away at the sight or sound of her, trying to look like the “sweet-faced Bonny” that Raeksa had loved so much.
“Hello, my name is Bean Si-“ She would never get to finish her carefully constructed introduction, for within moments the oldest stag-fawn pounced upon the newcomer, eager to prove himself to the other young ones by tearing into the awkward doe. He jeered and started rattling off with such dripping bitterness that Sheelin was completely thrown off guard. She had never felt such virulent feelings being spit in her face, and had never been confronted so. It was baffling, and soon her look of shock and confusion turned to one of terror when he advanced on her. She scrambled backward, hitting against the rock wall of the cavern, as he ducked his head in a mock-charge, and she let out a high-pitched wail, keening and horrified, lashing out with delicate hooves at her “attacker”. The buck squealed, dashing away with a stumbling gait, back to his dam’s side, blood dripping from the cut above his eye. The other fawns scrambled back to their mothers, and when the does began expressing their outrage at such an incident, Sheelin fled, scrambling and leaping with the bounding motions of someone truly frightened down to their core. She spent the next few days wandering the caverns close to her father’s hollow, unwilling to go close to any of the meeting-places again. She felt the aching loneliness of rejection and the horror of the confrontation. The simple-minded doe learned something that day: Death was nothing frightening, but pain- pain was terrifying.
The attacks started after then. The attacks that caused her mind to grow cloudy, a fog that pierced through even her fawn-like mindset, and gripped her in its clutches- the walls seemed to stretch out, the tunnels went on forever, and she could not get ahold of herself. She would feel the loneliness and the sadness and the pain- all tenfold over than how she normally might feel them. It was worse than any nightmare, because it could happen anytime. And when it did happen, she just ran and ran, like the first time, wailing at the top of her lungs, filling the caverns with her echoing cries.
She would still watch the fawns, but since then she has not attempted to form any friendships- yet.
At about three years of age, her father began to notice that she was starting to make water ripple- one of the first signs of magic users. He, eager to give his reclusive daughter something to devote herself to, and hoping that discipline and training might sharpen her mind, took her to be trained by the water benders of the Oakfern.
Sheelin enjoyed training, and “playing with water”, as she called it, often attempting to practice outside of her sessions. But her teachers grew frustrated with her slow processes of learning and her air-headedness that led her to make frequent mistakes. They would scold her, but she just went on, unabashed. She did not have any attacks with them, simply because she did not feel confronted or frightened.
It was during her training that she was exposed to the religion of the Oakfern on a grand scale. She had been taught, of course, that the other herds were wrong and a threat by her father, but since he spent little time explaining to her, and she lived on the outskirts of the herd, she had not been exposed to the sacrifices or the core center of religion that was the Moonpool and the shamans. And, through her perceptive ears and eyes, she formed her own adaption of the religion to follow, one that suited her needs, to the best of her understanding. She adored her moon god, and she was enchanted with the idea of these trances that the Shamans went through- or, as she was explained to “only the special waterbenders may do so.”
Sadly, Sheelin would never be one of these. The frustrations of teaching such a student got to be too much for the master waterbenders, and they told her sire that she was not cut out for anything past the basic level- she had just begun learning water-walking when she returned to her aimless wanderings of the tunnels and caverns.
Truly one of the most interesting days of her new life with no real set goals was the day when she found a little owlet, fallen from his nest and abandoned on the damp tunnel floor. She was entranced with the fluffy little creature, and for once, she made an effort to keep him warm and safe. Despite her best intentions and attempts, the chick could not make it on the cold ground without proper nourishment, and within a few hours’ span went limp and cold. Sheelin did not know how to grieve correctly, so she did her best to take some sort of memory from him- a bit of down.
When soldiers came upon her, finding a dead hatchling between her spindly legs and down clutched in her mouth, they assumed the worst.
If not for her sire’s intervention, she would have been charged with the most sacrireligious of crimes- the murder of an owl. Luckily, her elder father, with many years of service as a soldier in his favor, convinced them that she was trying her best to save the hatch rather than kill it. And while he defended her, in his own heart he did not believe his own story. He knew she did not have the capacity for murder, but also thought little of her care skills- it was why he still kept her close.
But even her father could no stay with his little doe forever- he was sent to the southern edge of Oakfern territory to be a guard, and their time together grew ever-shorter with one another. It did not bother the pale doe much, as she had grown used to the solitary lifestyle, constructing her water-fawnlings and finding dead spiders, lizards, and other small creatures, with the occasional trip to the surface.
With the every-so-often attack, resulting her running through the tunnels, wailing piteously, lost to the world.

Possible Plans:
- I really would love for her to spend some time interacting with other Oakfern fawnlings, especially older ones and possibly fawns.
- I’m debating whether or not to possibly give her a owl companion- maybe if she grows up some and improves her caretaking skills? I can’t see anyone allowing her to care for one the way she is now.
- Unlike most fawnlings, getting Sheelin hitched is not happening in the near future- I want to expand on her quite a bit before we worry about the stags! (Though I’m not sure who would want a doe like her!)
- The big one for me is having her interact with a Blackwood or Glenmore fawnling (perhaps one who has gotten lost?) when she goes up to the surface- I’d love to see her love of fawns combat with her curiosity of death and the hatred that most Oakferns hold against others. (While she understands that they’re “bad”, she doesn’t quite hate them- she’s not really capable of hate at the moment.)

Behind the Names:
Bean Sidhe-See “Inspiration”
Sheelin-Means “Lake of the Faeries”- ties in with both her magic type, her dwelling, and what inspired her.
Shee- Shortened version of Sheelin
Bonny- Means “fetching”. A cute, sweet name from a nurse who cared for her, taken (roughly) from the first part of her given name.
Banshee-See “Inspiration”

Explanation of Glowing Designs: This doe, unlike her father, who wears the same shade of glowing lichen in the exact same way every day, is an experimenting little fawn. She enjoys playing with her favorite colors and in different styles- however, there are two markings that, when decorated, she will always have.
She has a line of “veterbrae” like markings down her spine and neck- this is homage to the spine-whip of the dullahan- though she herself just enjoys the look. She will typically dip the tip of her horn in the glowing lichen, and will trace delicate shapes that accent the curves of her skull- giving the appearance of highlighting her bones. She will typically also ring her upper tail in a few stripes of color.
Her color of choice is a pale blue-green.

Explanation of Baubles: Sheelin enjoys “dressing up” and doesn’t stick to the same baubles for long, but she does have a few recurring looks that she can frequently be seen in. She often ties two owl feathers and a tiny lizard skull to her horn with hemp, coating the thin tendril with water as to knot it about. She often ties a small bird bone, one down feather, and a flight feather from a fallen owl as well to the end of her mane, right near her withers. Sometimes she will cement with sticky lichen or sap a feather or pebble onto her left ear. And lastly, her prized possession, a parrot feather from up on the surface, that she will wear tied to her tail or hanging about her neck, depending on her mood.
She will go free of her baubles sometimes, and she only “dresses up” when she wants to look pretty. She enjoys experimenting and since she is alone most of the time she can spend hours trying out different placing of feathers, bones, or pebbles, just like with her glowing lichen.

Explanation of Magic: Sheelin has not mastered much magic past the basic level, though she had begun attempting to understand the concept of water-walking when she was halted in her training. She can manipulate water fairly well, though she has to keep it mostly connected to the main body of water from which she is drawing it from. This is why she typically has her “friends” appear when she is hanging out by an underground pool, or walking alongside a stream. The smaller the body of water, the easier it is for her to draw up. It is harder for her to draw up water that contains anything larger than flecks of minerals or lichen- lifting a fish skeleton in a “bubble” of water, for instance, is harder than simple manipulation. The more detailed the shape, the harder it is to make.
She can freeze over the surface of water, and can heat it up slightly- she isn’t bad at magic, just untrained and rather slow. She enjoys playing with it though, and trying new things, even if she typically fails at it.

Sheelin’s given name and parts of her design and personality are all inspired by the bean sidhe of mythology, otherwise anglicized as “the banshee”. This creature is considered by most to be either a fae or a spirit, and is closely associated with death. Simplified, banshees are the spirits or fae who are linked to one family or clan, and would let out a loud wailing sound whenever a member of the family was about to die. (Especially if the family/clan member was not dying of old age.) They were typically young, female, clothed in white or black, and were said to glow faintly. Sometimes they are associated with the Dullahan, a headless faerie who rides a black horse and carries a human spine as a whip. The banshee is the spirit who warns of death about to come through a wail, and the dullahan brings death by calling the one who is to die by name. The banshee is mournful, and the dullahan is gleeful.
Banshees were also sometimes said to be seen along lakes and rivers, washing out the clothes of those about to die.
Bean Sidhe, of course, is the traditional name for a banshee, but Sheelin also gets her main call-name, Sheelin, from this. Sheelin means “lake of faeries”, which references both her partial inspiration and where she lives, among the underground lakes of the water-controlling Oakfern. (In addition, many people once believed that the land of the faeries lay underground.)
Sheelin’s pale coat reminds of ghostly linen clothing, and the dark lines across her coat have always reminded me of blood or cracks in bone since I first saw her design.
In personality, with her rather odd fascination with death, and her lonely and mournful personality, along with her “attacks” that are paired with keening wails, she is almost parallel to these ancient faeries.
Species Book: Desert Species
Narcissus and Echo
Bean Sidhe | Doe | Herd Member
Eco y Narciso
I've decided that scenery is evil