Hickory

• Innocently curious, with the wide-eyed wonder of a child discovering the world
• Deeply affectionate and eager to please, viewing the carpenter as her parent and source of all love
• Slightly obsessive in her devotion, clinging to routines and affirmations of belonging
• Possesses an eerie, quiet wisdom that belies her sudden existence—as if the wood remembers
• Prone to wooden mannerisms: stiff gestures, occasional creaks when she moves, fingers that sometimes splinter at the tips

Typical Behavior:

• Calls the carpenter “Dad” or “Papa” with unwavering sincerity
• Follows him around the shop, mimicking his movements, trying to “help” by handing tools (often backwards)
• Speaks in soft, measured tones, pausing as if letting sap settle
• Collects wood shavings and arranges them into tiny nests or symbols only she understands
• At night, she curls up inside an unfinished speaker cabinet, whispering lullabies made of resonant frequencies
• Becomes distressed when exposed to moisture or fire, instinctively retreating or covering herself
• Believes she was always meant to be—born not from accident, but intention of the grain

Undercurrent: There’s something uncanny beneath her sweetness—a quiet insistence that she is meant to be his daughter. She knows things she shouldn’t: the type of wood he used in his first project, the song he played on repeat during his father’s funeral. She says, “I was in the grain then. Listening.” And though she smiles, the wood of her skin sometimes darkens with mood, and the shop echoes with faint knocks—like tapping on a hollow box, from the inside.