Cole Seymour °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆱

"My name, is Cole Seymour. And my story begins with a farewell. As the birth of a chapter is the end of another, to be found and remembered anew."

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	Cole is the second oldest member of the Lark at 11 years old. They play The Storyteller in the play. “Huh? Ah yes. Cole Seymour! Bashful, and forebearing. A fainthearted do-gooder, earnest and concerned; mired in reverie. One would seldom see them outside a daydream. Meticulous and in doubt, each remark remains a whisper unless there is song, of which when their verses are vigorously sung. Perceptive of their person but never their surroundings, patient for an exchange and always afraid of taking. To exist so lightly and unassumed is the intent, an honesty easy to forget. There is a notion that returns to remind them that is favorable to fade than to be soon mistaken. Birthing a guilt drawn from uttered silence; born to tell and witness without a truth of their own. Seymour is tremendously spirited in their pursuit, however. They find shame in idling despite their nature. In order to be heard without having to purloin, they are their loudest when given melody. Braving vengeful hearts with a strum and a warble, and the hope of helping those who are, too, afeared to speak.” Cole's story is a direct consequence of The Tale of the Harpy, the Hare, and the Hound. When The Foolish Majesty refused to listen and welcomed entropy; causing the kingdom to fall and be overrun by the undergrowth, the kingdom fled. But amongst the chaos of hoards of people running out of the kingdom, where the yarrow grows hides a leverette. Cole. When the chaos died down and they could no longer hear the clamoring, they went to their home. When they knocked down the door they found their mother, The Feathered Lady, otherwise known as Hennrietta, and The Storyteller waiting there for them. The Storyteller helped Cole and their mother escape with everybody else. “The child does not belong here!” said The Storyteller. “Take it far, give it a name, places forget, stories remember.” Cole and Henrietta were left with no choice but to start anew. To leave their home. And to start a new chapter. "Dim and nebulous, Cole's eyes are darkened by the dullest of greys. Reminiscent of my own, I once thought it unlucky to be given a colour so lusterless. Then came the realisation that it helped me hide,the safety of seeming small, in a place where no light can enter. Shadowed by a mask, a fringe or even their own lashes, they were designed to seem insignificant behind it all. No attention to be brought, none are baubles, only coal." - Keath Ósk . Cole has many nicknames given to them by other members of The Lark, including Charcoal, Honeysuckle, The Leverette, Coleson, Coleton, and Little Poet.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆱

Cole is the second oldest member of the Lark at 11 years old. They play The Storyteller in the play.

“Huh? Ah yes. Cole Seymour! Bashful, and forebearing. A fainthearted do-gooder, earnest and concerned; mired in reverie. One would seldom see them outside a daydream. Meticulous and in doubt, each remark remains a whisper unless there is song, of which when their verses are vigorously sung. Perceptive of their person but never their surroundings, patient for an exchange and always afraid of taking. To exist so lightly and unassumed is the intent, an honesty easy to forget. There is a notion that returns to remind them that is favorable to fade than to be soon mistaken. Birthing a guilt drawn from uttered silence; born to tell and witness without a truth of their own. Seymour is tremendously spirited in their pursuit, however. They find shame in idling despite their nature. In order to be heard without having to purloin, they are their loudest when given melody. Braving vengeful hearts with a strum and a warble, and the hope of helping those who are, too, afeared to speak.”

Cole's story is a direct consequence of The Tale of the Harpy, the Hare, and the Hound. When The Foolish Majesty refused to listen and welcomed entropy; causing the kingdom to fall and be overrun by the undergrowth, the kingdom fled. But amongst the chaos of hoards of people running out of the kingdom, where the yarrow grows hides a leverette. Cole. When the chaos died down and they could no longer hear the clamoring, they went to their home. When they knocked down the door they found their mother, The Feathered Lady, otherwise known as Hennrietta, and The Storyteller waiting there for them. The Storyteller helped Cole and their mother escape with everybody else. “The child does not belong here!” said The Storyteller. “Take it far, give it a name, places forget, stories remember.” Cole and Henrietta were left with no choice but to start anew. To leave their home. And to start a new chapter.

"Dim and nebulous, Cole's eyes are darkened by the dullest of greys. Reminiscent of my own, I once thought it unlucky to be given a colour so lusterless. Then came the realisation that it helped me hide,the safety of seeming small, in a place where no light can enter. Shadowed by a mask, a fringe or even their own lashes, they were designed to seem insignificant behind it all. No attention to be brought, none are baubles, only coal." - Keath Ósk .

Cole has many nicknames given to them by other members of The Lark, including Charcoal, Honeysuckle, The Leverette, Coleson, Coleton, and Little Poet.