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Beawulfr the Hunter

As her sometime friend and occasional tutor (not that she ever listens), I'm having to write this for Beawulfr, as she hasn't the time or inclination to write it for herself. Of course she has as much time as anyone else, only she would never use her time to do anything so thoughtful or considered as writing. Beawulfr, you see, is not thoughtful, neither is she considered. Rather, she is a rash and chaotic character, the type of person who jumps in first and asks questions later, if she ever asks questions at all that is.
Let me introduce her. She is not uncomely, she is average height, a little skinny, has brown hair coming down from under an unkempt (and smelly) wolfskin hat, the toothy brim of which leaves her blue eyes shadowed and unappreciated. All in all Beawulfr makes for a wild looking figure, clad in furs, wolfish in looks, wolfish in character. If you drew attention to her barbaric appearance, she wouldn't flinch or be offended, she'd only laugh. She has a beautiful laugh.
Her manners leave a lot to be desired. Her table manners are none, her personal habits best left unmentioned. That all said, her good humor makes her pleasant company, at least when she's not tired, hungry, or howling at the moon.
Beawulfr hunts. Rabbit, deer, bear, wolf, fish, goat, eagle. She hunts anything she can. Nothing is either safe or spared from her hungry appetite for game.
Is Beawulfr ambitious? I don't know. She is one for simple pleasures: the thrill of the hunt, ax throwing, pig wrestling, totem carving. I suspect she'd rather spend an evening drinking giant's brew among trollkin, and a morn dancing in the dew with the faery folk, than ever plotting and planning the comings and goings of any business normally attributed to lords or ladies.

Hunter Beawulfr

Advisor Description

Friendships are often born of adversity, and the friendship between Beawulfr and Sigurdr is no exception, albeit an adversity that was brought upon themselves. You see, the pair met through brawling with one another in the training halls, both seeking to better themselves, both seeing the other as competition and a threat, and yet both finding solace and understanding from the shared camaraderie of the halls: seeing in each other a mirror of themselves. They fought hard, pulled no punches, hurt one another in an equal and painful match, and ultimately found that they liked and even admired what they saw in one another. Thick as thieves, Beawulfr and Sigurdr talked long into the night after that day they first met, drew each others blood, and found one another other a kindred spirit.
Beawulfr, clumsy and a little oblivious to her surroundings, blundering towards her fate, is now watched over by the caring and slightly infatuated Sigurdr.