So What?

I finally got around to pestering Miss Author about getting me a story, but she seems so unhappy to give me one, like she's afraid she'll lose me if she does. Apparently I'm her muse or something. Whatever. I'm a character in her head.

My name is Jacki, I'm... Huh, what am I? Little Miss Author isn't much of a drawing artist, so often times I don't particularly have a defined form. Usually my hair's dark brown, I think. I'm average height, tanned enough from the sun, oh, and often times half-otter, kinda. I typically keep an otter tail, but it comes and goes. She's not so good with defining people. My weapons get definitions though. I often carry a dirk, though currently I need a new one, and occasionally I have a nice sling and stone pouch, embroidered. I think they're supposed to have some family significance to me, but Miss Author didn't get it ingrained enough in my head I guess. If I had a story, I'd know. I'd have a history. As it is, no one knows who my parents are, or if I even have any, or anything about me except that I'm a figment of her imagination. She's not all that kind to her characters, really. Better to have a story and die than to be caught in limbo like this, no true form or memory. She really treasures memory, for one reason or another, but she doesn't have the kindness to grace me with any.

But here I go being depressing. I'm not always like this, really. When you put me with a friend or two we have a great time. Just don't ask me what my story is. I have none.

-Jacki, the otter-girl caught in limbo