Sidonie

Sidonie, the Gift

SEMI-MAGICAL / SPIRIT OF WINTER

DEMISEXUAL — SINGLE

BREEDINGS UNLIKELY

• charming and mysterious, calm and softspoken
• loves making others happy
• more a listener than a talker
• can sweep anyone of their feet if she wants to
• Spirit of Winter and thus encapsules everything good about winter:
  • first snow, the glittering of snow at night, lights and decorations everywhere, hot beverages, soft blankets
  • love and community, different holidays, gift giving, being thankful
  • smells of gingerbread, cookies, spices and apples and oranges
  • and everything else
• known as a kind of secluded person who during the winter holidays is out and about handing out self-made gift packages

"Are you an angel, miss?"
Her laughter was as soft and bright as the  sound of the bell on her tail. She looked down at the small Viscling at  her feet, smiling.
"Oh no, darling. I'm afraid I am not."
Snowflakes  were getting caught in her pelt, slowly melting, as she reached down to  grab one of the gift packages, that she was carrying around on a wooden  trolley. Down the road the bell of the church was striking five. It had  gotten dark and the rural christmas scenery was lit only by the street  lamps and the lantern, that Sidonie had with her, now resting on a  snowed-in bench, so she had both paws free.
She chose one, dark blue  paper with golden stars, twinkling in the light of the lantern, and gave  it to the Viscling, who smiled shily at her.
"I am just another Viscetkind. As we all are."
The  snowflakes on her shawl glistered and it seemed, as if she was  surrounded by stardust - or thousands of tiny stars, fallen from heaven.
Sidonie  was a beautiful sight to behold, but none of the Visclings surrounding  her, were paying her much attention. They all were busy opening the  gifts, that the friendly female had offered them. Out of carefully  hand-crafted packages they drew apples, oranges, nuts, chocolate,  gingerbread and tiny toys.
In the village she lived, Sidonie was  barely known - many mysteries surrounded the appearance of the elegant  female. The children loved to say that she was an angel or a fairy; and  while the adult Viscets were mostly found to shake their heads and  laugh, even they had to wonder.
During most of the year, she was  rarely ever seen. Like a famililar cryptid, she lived amongst the others  and once in a while, she could be spotted shopping on the weekly market  or found enjoying a cup of tea and some biskuits at the old bakery.  When she was greeted, she would smile warmly, but she would always  disappear as fast as she came.
Only during holiday season, she was an  omnipresent figure within the streets of the town. Snow in her fur, the  lantern in one paw and pulling her trolley with the other, Sidonie  would walk around, handing out gifts to anyone she met; rarely talking,  mostly smiling. It seemed to make her happy, and it really did.
In  fact, Sidonie created all of these packages herself, it was, what  brought her most joy: Crafting bags out of different kinds of paper and  decorating them with all she could think of. Cut out stars and hearts  and animal shapes, glitter and bows, felted snowmen. Every single  package was created with love and filled with delicious treats and toys.  The toys were mostly wood, she would craft them herself as well.
The manual labor was important to her, as it remembered her of a time, when she had nothing.
"Like the little girl with the matches."
She  liked to say. But instead of Death getting a hold of her, she was  saved. Saved by a friendly figure that she can barely remember anymore -  except for the name: Nicholas. He had gifted her a baked apple, warm  and delicious, and then he took her with her and gave her a home. She  used to have nothing and now she had everything.
Nonetheless, it was  important for her to never forget how lucky she had been. And after  Nicholas had deceased, in his memory she had started to become her own  version of him. Whenever she saw a smile on the Visclings faces, when  they opened their gifts, she remembered her own smile and the smile  Nicholas has granted her. To her, he had been a Saint. It was her duty  now, to remember him.