[You let me know if I muddled the theme, but here goes!]

Name: Temen, the First Daughter

Age: Older than she or her people can remember.

Appearance: Carved from smooth marble, as tall as the trees. Her form is of a woman, wearing upon her shoulders the wise and ever vigilant head of an owl, gazing in all directions. She wears only a travelers cloak as uniformly pale as her skin. It sways in the breeze as if fabric, but is stone to the touch. Her feet and hands are chipped and scratched, and upon her person always is an ancient hammer - her symbol.

Personality: Temen is an aspect of labour, a spirit that is at odds with the gentle stability of the world around her. Whilst she understands nature, she drives to search beyond it - stumbling beyond her own means in the process. She lives to work, and drives such inspiration in her people. Building houses, digging roads, fostering communities amongst her people. But all can be done too quickly. Caution and patience are her words, as she has watched the ages pass quietly and seamlessly for so very long.

But she is not unchanged, from her people she has learnt the songs of toil along the river, the birdsongs of love that erupt in a thousand varieties. It has pleased her to serve for so long as a mother, as perhaps most daughters do. But she is a daughter, one born from the womb of the world, and in even the still patient gaze of her eyes lies the twinkle of temptation.

To be a daughter is similar to being a goddess of love. Motherhood is a form of love easily worn for a time, but the aspect of youth and adventure is at the heart of her spirit.

Backstory: When all there were none but wanderers, she was alike all the rest. One by one, the creatures of the lands were studied. The ants were industrious and cunning, but neither strength nor knowledge could overcome their scale. Wild dogs hunted in great packs, but proved too easily cowed. The beavers worked tirelessly, but cared too little about the world outside their homes. It was, then, the birdfolk of the river that Temen came to discover. They build elaborate hovels, decorated with jewels and shells, to attract a mate - only to demolish them to begin the quest anew each year.

To Temen, they were kin. She watched for seasons. In the winter the birds would share scares scraps, wash each other, share the tasks of nomadic life. In the autumn they would drift up and down the fast flowing river, towards the distant sea. They never arrived there, fearing the strong winds that would tear through their hovels. With great screeches they defended their territory from hunting lions, and the scavenging dogs who would try to drag the weak and the old out of huts at night.

When she revealed herself to them, they screeched at her as well. But patience is a virtue. Over generations, they learnt, they listened, they grew. The hovels grew smarter, cleaner. The screeches grew more uniform. Temen granted them, through her presence and persistence, the gifts they needed to begin to prosper. First they became fishermen, diving first, and spearing later. Later they began to plant useful herbs and grains closer to their regular settling spots. Finally, they built foundations of stone.

When they were sick, she healed them. When they starved, she fed them. When they hunted, she taught them. When they began to speak, and ask questions of their place in the world, she questioned them. "Who are you? Are you a shrill screech, a lost caw in the wind? Are you afraid of the beasts of the woods, the hunters from the sky? You were, once. But now you do not cry for attention, an endless song of longing. Who are you now?" They knew who they were, and so they named themselves Bao-Ur - the Bold Folk.

Today, their little camp could be even called a village. It is perhaps the first village. The Folk come and go, wandering the waterways, travelling nearby plains and forests. In the center, still as stone, Temen waits patiently. As if preserved from the elements, she remains much as she was when they did little more than cry for a lovers embrace with animal voices. For now, she has been a mother. One day she will be a daughter again.

Strengths:

• Temen has seen much in her time, she knows how the creatures of the forest hunt their prey, how the trees grow and the ants bustle. Nature holds no secrets in it's intricate patterns.

• With her hammer, she is a builder of communities and structures equally.

• A teacher beyond compare, with experience beyond the ages.

• Born of stone. As inevitable as the mountain's growth, as enduring as it's core.

Weaknesses:

• Nature is infinite, repeating, predictable. So much in this world is not, and intelligent life makes such mystifying decisions.

• Her strength is easily overcome with numbers and/or tools, should it come to that. To a determined and organised enemy, perhaps she is little more than a tiny mountain, ready to be felled.

• She does not hide, nor does she travel. Without Temen, the Bao-Ur would have no leader and no direction.