Mackenzie

In a rainy and foggy town on the coast of Newfoundland (Canada), a raccoongirl named Mackenzie lives. At the ripe old age of 23 in a town like this, there's only two ways a girl like her would be making a living: being a housewife, and to go fish. Considering she doesn't have a ring around her furry finger, guess what she did? She stands at 162cm, a fairly average height for a raccoon. About an average frame, though the fur makes her look softer than she actually is. Working on fishing boats does build up muscle after all, so she's pretty lean and fit beneath the fur. Feminine features? Apparently she's got those too. Hips that would wow a man who's never seen a woman before and a chest that's so boringly average it's a wonder she can't file for a tax exemption for it. Grey fur, dark raccoon mask around her orange eyes. Bushy tail. Keeps herself moderately groomed. No makeup though, that stuff washes away immediately in the rain. Raccoon hands need to grip and touch, and she's usually seen with some sort of item in her hand Being out on the sea? It's work. Work that keeps her away from land days or even weeks at a time. Work that makes her "fragile and feminine" muscles sore, or at least according to the guys on the boat. Don't worry, she can take the banter. Having three brothers does that to you! The sea has also permanently clogged up her nose with the scent of salt and raw fish. On one hand, the fact that her nose is busted means that working with fish isn't as shitty as it could be. On the other hand, it means she can't pick up the scent of any good food, either. Just the extremely strong ones. Did she always throw a packet of hot sauce on her food? Who knows. She avoids eating seafood (for obvious reasons) as much as she can, but it's a coastal town. Due to the near-permanent overcast-ness, she also has to pop vitamin D tablets. Her clothing style usually consists of stuff that's light yet protects her from the elements. Windbreakers, beanies/caps, fingerless gloves... indoors it's the same kind of utilitarianism. Calling it that is way better than admitting that you rarely ever update your wardrobe and mostly just buy what's on sale Nothing particularly good ever happens in her life. So why not light up a cigarette and take in the sea air? One of them fills your lungs with cancer, the other with salt. Tasty combination. When not at sea, she lives with her parents. In her childhood bedroom. The shame is offset by the fact that she doesn't have to pay for a place she won't even be in for half the year. Besides, doing the occasional chore is much easier than working on a trawler. They're good folks, aside from always asking when she's going to bring home a nice boy. Huh? Something about trawling causing damage to the ecosystem or whatever? lol. lmao, even.