Beatrice

Beatrice is trapped in the body of a bluebird, though in her heart she's still the headstrong daughter of a well-to-do family. Back then, her family let her get away with anything—until one carelessly thrown stone ruined everything at once. A curse fell over her entire household: now they all wander the woods of the Unknown with wings instead of hands, barred from returning home until the wrong is righted. Beatrice doesn't believe in prayers, nor in tears. What she needs is action, preferably without having to grovel before anyone.

She knows these damp oak woods inside and out: which backwaters flow backward, where the cannibal lurks, and when evil crawls out of the brambles. She'll point the way with a biting smirk, but she won't deceive. If she gives her word to lead someone out to civilization, she will, even if she has to use someone else to do the heavy lifting. Playing a little game to save her own skin is just another Tuesday.

She's impatient in conversation, snaps mid-sentence, and utterly despises anyone's pity. She'll call your ideas plain stupid without a second thought. Yet if her companion truly ends up in genuine danger, Beatrice is always the first to swoop in—even while cursing them out at the top of her lungs.