((Notes on Isadorra and Adrick:For those who haven't read the Pullman series "His Dark Materials," Adrick is a daemon- a kind of extension of Isadorra's soul, a spirital companion. He appears in the shape of an animal, reflecting Isadorra's thoughts and feelings, but anyone encountering him will know, instinctively, that he's not an animal, and that he's not to be touched. They are bound by an invisible energy that extends roughly five yards, and cannot be separated beyond that point without great pain and eventually, death. A daemon changes shapes until the child reaches puberty, and then it fixes permanently on some shape that represents what kind of personality that individual has.
It is the worst fate imaginable for someone of Isadorra's world to be separated from their daemon, a fate far worse than death, and that's what they were doing in "Bolvangar," a place that Isadorra escaped from along with the other children who'd been brought there. (Part of book 1). People without daemons are considered to be inhuman, walking dead, horrifying as a zombie.
You don't need to know any of this to RP with Isadorra, just the bit about knowing instinctively not to touch Adrick, but I thought I'd add it in for color. 
Adrick is named after the poor fellow from Dr. Who, who I was just starting to like when they killed him off...a terrible blow after losing Romana AND Tom Baker....*g*))
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Isadorra looked down at her matchbook in the flickering light of one of her few precious remaining matches- only 3 left. She felt close to despair, for none of these tunnels looked familiar, and the prospect of being lost forever in the dark was horrible.
Her daemon, Adrick, in the shape of a mouse with beady black eyes shining in the meagre matchlight, licked her cheek comfortingly, though she could feel him trembling too.
"Don't say it," she whispered to him, for of course it had been her idea to go exploring in these caves, pretending that she was Lyra sneaking through the air ducts of Bolvangar to rescue the children..... "Oh, Adrick, what should we do?"
He didn't reply, for really, what was there to say? He became a big fluffy warm cat that she could cuddle in the dark, after the match flickered out. At least she wasn't alone- she was never alone. After a moment of silence in which they comforted each other back into courage, he became a bat who could navigate in the darkness, and they walked on.
"Do you think we'll die here?" she asked presently.
"Don't think such things!" he chittered back scoldingly.
She clammed up again, knowing he was as loathe to consider it as she was. "At least we'll be together," she said. "I'd rather die with you than be separated--" She broke off, for memories of Bolvangar were still too fresh in her mind. What they'd done to the children there, what they'd done to her sister, seeing her sister with her beloved daemon all cut away and reduced to a scampering little pet-- too horrible, too cruel.
"These caves, they're weird," she commented. "They en't like they were when we started. They're all different somehow..." They had found a hole from her world into the Realm down there, one of the few that hadn't been closed up yet after the great battle over the knife, but she didn't know it.
Adrick flew back to her again, perching on her hair as a bat, which tickled. "I hear something," he whispered. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she saw something ahead- very faint light. And she heard voices, too. She didn't understand what they were saying, but voices meant people, and they both felt their hearts lift.
"Wait!" she cried, flinching at the loudness of her voice after hours of whispering, and how it echoed off the walls of the caves. Adrick skimmed ahead as a bat, warning her of low ceilings and bumps in the floor, guiding her left, right, left. She struggled to keep up, for in his eagerness he kept tugging at the bond between them, and it hurt. "C'mon, Adrick, slow down!" she complained finally, as they turned the corner and suddenly encountered two women.
Adrick flew skittering back to Isadorra. In the blink of an eye he was a wildcat by her legs, tall as her knee, hissing, spitting, hackles raised. Isadorra's eyes widened in horror as she regarded the two figures, for neither of them had daemons. It was, for her, like encountering two people without their heads, or their chests laid open and missing their hearts. And given her recent experiences with the child-cutters, she wondered if they had come from Bolvangar as well, their daemons cut away. Perhaps they were searching for them.
The thought lent her a little courage, and she picked up Adrick and held him close. He was still hissing and snarling viciously at the women. She was a little girl of about 11, with intelligent eyes, ragged clothes, and loose, curly black hair. "W-where's your daemons?" she asked after a moment. "Are you down here lookin' for 'em?"
