Name: Kristen Johnson
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Looks: Kristen is tall with dark, sun tanned skin. She is a muscular girl, with long dark brown hair and big dark eyes. Her hair is mostly in a ponytail. She has a pretty face and shapely figure, albeit a slight muscular figure, and she wears mostly white wife-beaters and tight jeans with boots.
Background: Kristen was born and raised in Willowvale. She is the only daughter of a large six child family; her parents owned a farm not to far from town. She went to the local highscool, where she won the girls' state shotput and discuss throwing championsips. She played every sport girls were allowed to play, and even managed to play for the football team in her senior year. When she graduated, she went away to school on a track scholarship. She quit college after a year and came back home to work with her father on the farm. All of her brothers have moved away from Willowvale into surrounding towns.
Personality: Kristen is a very nice and considerate girl, but she is tough and headstrong as well. She isn't prissy or girly at all, and if provoked, she will fight. She's particularly laid-back and easy going, and hardly ever loses her cool too much.
Other: She has a killer right hook, and carries a bowie knife in her left steel-toed boot.
::Kris::
With great precision and care a threw the last bag of sheep hair over my shoulder and loaded it onto the pick-up. Today I was driving into town to the UPS store so they could send off the wool. They would send it to some factory to be made into clothes, and it would be shipped all over the country. My father and I made enough from the sheep-sheering business to live quite nicely.
We had the pick-up, a dark green Ford 1/2 ton, and the black Ford F-150. The house I lived in was your standard farm house; two floors, wide open spaces, and a big kitchen. All throughout the house there were headmounts of all types of deers, bears, wolves, and even a cougar. We had a big screen TV, and every other appliance you could think of. To be honest, I can't use half the shit, and neither can my dad, though he's a pro with the microwave. My mother, however, should have her own TV show, the way she zips around that kitchen, flicking switches here and there. It's like watching a ballet.
It's just us here, me, my Dad Tom, and my mother Carol. All five of my brothers, Bucky, Hunter, Kenny, Tom Jr., and Carl have moved away. Half of them own little diners or shops, and the other half are policemen. Tom Jr., however, is a football coach out in Tillerton. He knows never to come here; it was the Tillerton Tigers that ended our state championship run a few years back; I had been playing wide-receiver.
We don't just have sheep here on our farm; we have cattle, a few chickens, a rooster, a couple of pigs, and a family of horses. If you haven't guessed already, I'm a pretty active girl. Life may seem dull here to others, but I love it.
I cranked up the engine to my 1/2 ton, and drove up the gravel drive-way onto Wellington Rd. It lead on into the middle of town, crossing three streets, Parrish Rd., Timothy, and finally, 1st street. I still don't think Willowvale is big enough to have a 1st street.
I let the windows down in the truck and cranked up the radio; one of my favorite songs, Sugar We're Going Down, by Fallout Boy, was playing. I was driving so fast I had to hold on hand on my cowboy hat to keep it on my head. I didn't think of letting the window up.
As I neared town, I had to slow my speed. Jed, a traffic cop, loved to give me speeding tickets. He thought I would think he was responsible and then I'd go out on a date with him. He's dumber than his name sounds. When I drove pass the Timothy and Dorothy intersection, I noticed a man walking into Ernie's Beer and Board. I didn't get a good look at him, but I didn't feel like stopping to figure out who he was; I needed to drop off the wool.
The transaction only took ten minutes, since the UPS store employs three big burly men who can move 50 lbs. bags of wool faster than I can. I decided that since I had nothing to do I'd stop by and see who that was at Ernie's... it wouldn't take too much time...