Halycind Cashtiel ()

Age: 21

Type: Main Female Lead/Ensemble

Overt Traits: Strong, Obedient, Kind, Controlled (she sounds like a black/native american girl with a soft London-ish accent)

Underlying Traits: Defiant, Anxious, Unsure, Smart

Project: This Character Casting is for Short Readings & Video Voice Over Releases of the Novel Series: A Citrus Rose (available here)

This is an ongoing casting, so please know the size of this role will grow when the project does well.

Background:

Halycind Cashtiel (pronounced; Hal-i-sin-d Cash-teal )

Is THE main female leading role. She is quite simply a tribal girl who's unsure of her own life's choice and direction. She's a great NATURAL hunter and posses an indomitable will. She falls in love with her best friend after spending some time with him and makes a promise to defend their love. Her personality might be easy to red on the surface but Halycind carries MANY MANY secrets so her demeanor changes ALOT over time.

Test Lines---

(Halycind grunted,) "But I've studied so much of the terrain here. I'm ready."

('mossy' is a slang term for virginity. Here, Haly is apprehensively admitting to not being bold enough to approach men and the inherent neglect she's felt growing up.) “Well, while I am Ashok (pron: Ash-ok), there are other Princesses less...abrasive...than I. Therefore, I – I've not chosen a mate to run with and...moreover...no-one's chosen me, so I've kept mossy. I haven’t done anything with anyone.”

(Haly is sarcastic and cynical AND she's in a conversation here with her best guy friend so she's natural in her speech. I'm leaving the narration in this piece for acting direction.) “Doing arithmetic in small numbers does not make one smart.” She dragged and sighed at his jokes. “...After...after you were gone…” Her head hung a bit. “...My tutors didn’t like me. I didn’t pay attention well. I tried, I really did, but after a few moments of hearing them speak...I didn't hear them anymore. I only saw wuribai (woo-ri-bye) playing outdoors. The wistful whims of our leaves turning their seasonal colours. The cloth of wash-maids billowing on the breezes...”