<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/gcjDU3q.jpg?1)<br/></div><strong>Name: </strong>Juro<br/><strong>Race/Class: </strong>Rabbit Elf/Druid<br/><strong>HP:</strong>21/21<strong>Armor:</strong>2<strong>XP:</strong>0/7<br/><strong>Effects:</strong>None<br/><strong>Action:</strong>None<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body">Strength: 13 [+1]  Constitution: 15 [+1]  Dexterity: 9 [+0]<br/>Intelligence: 8 [-1]  Wisdom: 16 [+2]  Charisma: 12 [+0]<br/><br/><strong>By Nature Sustained</strong><br/>You don’t need to eat or drink. If a move tells you to mark off a ration just ignore it.<br/><br/><strong>Spirit Tongue</strong><br/>The grunts, barks, chirps, and calls of the creatures of the wild are as language to you. You can understand any animal native to your land or akin to one whose essence you have studied.<br/><br/><strong>Shapeshifter</strong><br/>When you call upon the spirits to change your shape, roll+WIS. • On a 10+ hold 3. • On a 7–9 hold 2. • On a miss hold 1 in addition to whatever the GM says.<br/><br/>You may take on the physical form of any species whose essence you have studied or who lives in your land: you and your possessions meld into a perfect copy of the species’ form. You have any innate abilities and weaknesses of the form: claws, wings, gills, breathing water instead of air. You still use your normal stats but some moves may be harder to trigger—a housecat will find it hard to do battle with an ogre. The GM will also tell you one or more moves associated with your new form. Spend 1 hold to make that move. Once you’re out of hold, you return to your natural form. At any time, you may spend all your hold and revert to your natural form.<br/><br/><strong>Studied Essence</strong><br/>When you spend time in contemplation of an animal spirit, you may add its species to those you can assume using shapeshifting.</div></div><br/><hr/><br/>Juro grimaced as he felt Peaches’ little feet land on his shoulder. Not because he disliked her nearness, in fact, he respected the pixie as a creature of nature. No, it was the words she spoke, the words he knew she would speak, and the fulfillment of those words that disturbed him. “I like pinecones in my hair. They smell nice,” he countered, flashing her a straight look that did not quite match the words or lilting tone. And when he realized that discrepancy and how easily it could be seen as a tease to play off of—and worse, a prank—he tried to remedy it with a frown. “I don’t need prettying up.<em>You</em>need to learn some fierceness, little one. The term was endearing as always, in spite of his frowning face and grumping words.