Liz is a short little thing with red hair and an obscene amount of freckles that cover every inch of her body. Her hair only reaches just past her shoulder blades and her eyebrows are far too bushy for her liking.
Though of English parentage, Liz grew up in the village of Dunquin, Ireland. From the age of eight she has lived with her fifty-six-year-old aunt in a small cottage surrounded by nature. Liz’s aunt Mary owns a nursery on their property, where Liz has helped with growing and nurturing plants ever since her arrival. Liz’s parents are traveling musicians. They don’t often come home, but when they do there can be a bit of tension from being away from Liz for so long. Liz never holds it against them and does her best to enjoy their limited time together.
Because of her parent’s occupation, Liz has always been interested in music. She plays the violin well for her age, but doesn’t often try to play other instruments.
Liz is kind to other girls her age, but due to her non exposure to boys, she is uncomfortable around them. She will often make this discomfort known by being rude or abrasive toward them. Her personality is generally kind when she’s not experiencing an intense emotion. When angry she can easily fall into a state of sarcasm that almost seems beyond her years.
Two weeks after her 11th birthday in November, Liz was discovered in the snowy garden with a ten-foot radius of summer rose bushes surrounding her as she played a sonata on her violin. The roses promptly withered and died as she was pulled away from the scene by her aunt. Her skin was room temperature, apparently unaffected by the cold in every way.