Having lead a somewhat sheltered upbringing, and never taught to read, Marla never developed the desire to explore or turn to adventure. Very happy with her life on the farm, she never desired anything more. Her father and five older brothers would tell her amazing stories, but always emphasized the danger, rather than the heroics. She'd never been allowed to travel off the farmstead alone, always accompanied by one of her brothers to take eggs to the market in exchange for small necessities. Though she'd wander off the path, sometimes, to pick flowers, she never ended up in any more trouble than getting her foot stuck in mud.
Since there's never been any unpleasantness, and she'd recently turned eight-teen, Marla had finally been given permission to go to the city by herself, for the first time. The trek there was, expectedly, uneventful, relaxing and a little thrilling since she was on her own for once. However, on her way home, a billowing, thick fog rolled in from nowhere. At first she thought little of it, knowing the path so well she could navigate it blindfolded. The rolling fog became so dense, she could barely see her hand before her face. She had the sense of being watched, of something dark and malicious following her, and grew nervous. Picking up her pace, she nearly ran headlong into a cloaked figure that make her skin prickle. She screamed, and must have fainted, because the next thing she knew, she was picking herself up off the ground, thankfully unharmed, and found herself in a camp she'd never seen before. Too confused to be scared, she approached and learned she was no longer within familiar territory, shocked and gripped with fear, she wandered the camp aimlessly until a red-headed elf offered a kind hand and guidance.
From there, she'd been able to pick up the pieces of her shattered life and make due the best she could. Little by little, learning how to use a sword and how to survive in these unforgiving lands.
However, since her arrival through the strange, dark mists, Marla can't help but feel more and more homesick. Feeling guilty over her sudden disappearance and making her family think her dead, or worse.
Sometimes, it's easy for her to pretend everything is fine, that she's adapted, and accepted her new life. Though, some days, the weight of loneliness and depression presses down so hard she wonders if she shouldn't just wander out in the night and let some wicked beast end it. Those days have been happening more and more often. She's becoming less cautious, less careful, caring less and less for her own safety, wallowing under the weight of self pity. She does her best to hide it, smiling, laughing, even when all she wants to do is cry.
The only thing that's stopped her from doing something irrevocably stupid is the thought of that red haired elf. The first person to extend a hand of friendship and understanding upon her arrival. The only one she can't bring herself to abandon. The only one who can pull her out of the dark places of her mind, can make her truely smile, and gives her a reason to continue on.
