|Hair Color||Dark Brown|
|Eye Color||Hazel Green|
|Parents||Morden Keaton, Sallah Crovane|
|Authored By / Featured In|
Dark brown hair falls in loose curls from crown to just past her shoulders. Streaked with a paler honied brown, her voluminous curls frame a narrow, delicately featured face. Pale freckles are splayed over her brow and along her cheeks. Large hazel eyes are framed in thick lashes, bringing out the hints of green and gold within the irises. Her mouth is wide, expressive, usually giving away her emotions unless an effort is made to disguise them. She is of average height, her build slim, almost willowy. There is a youthfulness about her, something that lends an innocence to her, deserved or not.
Figuring out Amari Keaton was something of a local pastime in Oakhaven. The vagaries of her personality from day to day were legend; sometimes sweet, sometimes cruel, always sharp witted, smart and observant. Intensity was her companion from a young age, and she is prone to bouts of it still when something manages to draw the fullness of her focus. There is an air of mystery that swirls around her, one never quite knows what to expect and she is often approaching things from oblique angles.
Pressure and expectation were Amari's siblings. Raised by the preeminent legal mind of House Keaton, from an early age Amari was told she was the smartest, sharpest little girl in all of Arvum. There was never a question that she was to apprentice under her father, that she would be his heir, not to lands or people, but to the Law. It never got any better. The weight of those expectation only grew as she took to her letters, proving the ability was there. And she *did* love the work. The sense of it, the logic, the ability to shade meaning into the letter of the law to derive a desired outcome. It was fascinating. But the pressure, the weight to always do better, to push herself further, it was exhausting. There was never time to live in the moment, her father always pressed forward.
She was a few months shy of seventeen when she met Kereth, an Abandoned boy from the Shadowood. She knew she should run, knew he was dangerous, *outlaw*. And yet. He was handsome and he smiled at her. Better still... he was forbidden. As the weight of all that expectation grew, Kereth represented the one thing Amari had never tasted. Freedom. It was a day before her seventeenth birthday that she ran away, hand in hand with Kereth. Within the Shadowood she was exposed to so much more. New ways of thinking, of seeing and perceiving the world around her. It was not that she didn't believe in the gods, but there was something missing. She embraced shamanism because it spoke to her in a way the liturgical rote of the Faith never did. Her whole life had been, to that point, a pressure filled womb, dark and overwhelming. Given a chance to breathe to find answers beyond the books she'd studied her whole life, Amari grew and blossomed. It was just over two years later, a day after her nineteenth birthday that she returned.
Obviously she was not welcomed back with open arms, but despite the two year vacation, her grasp of the law enabled her to present a solid case for her return. She was accepted back -- but not universally. Her father grilled her about her time away but Amari would not speak of what she had done, who she had been with. Her continued refusal to speak about her two years away was too much, and as she was now, legally an adult, her father strongly suggested that she look into relocating to Arx to join the growing Keaton presence there.