My name is Heather Montiford and I am not yet 19 and I am a Dinosaur freedom protester. My Grandfather is one of the founder of the Montiford trading empire and one of the ‘discoverers’ of the ‘Lost Isles”. My father is his heir and a rather clueless man when it comes to children and does not know of my dislike of the whole issue surrounding the use of the saurus’ and my mother is a true Victorian Lady and has no opinion of her own except that I too should lose my independence and practice using my cutlery until I know how to properly use a pickle fork without spraying a potential suitor with vinegar. I also have an older brother, Benjamin, who is desperate to follow in father’s footsteps and a sister Constance, who is only 16, and falls in love at the slightest provocation.
That is me, I suppose, in a few words. I don’t know what else to tell you about myself except that I have a snub nose and too many freckles for my mother’s liking. I am called a ‘striking’ girl, but not a pretty one and that I have too many opinions that I should probably rather keep to myself. Oh and I have a pet miniature plesiosaur which I keep in a tank in the corner of my room. I suppose it’s odd for a girl like me, who is so ardently against dinosaurs being used as beasts of burden, to keep one as a pet, rather like a shepherdess having a pet lamb, but I comfort myself knowing that Tritonis is too tame to be let go. Father bought her to mollify me after I expressed an opinion about how the bigger ones are used to pull barges into the harbour. I guess father, once again, mistook my dislike as an interest in the family business.
So that is me, but not all of me. I guess we all keep parts of us hidden from others including parts that cannot ever be found – not even with a pickle fork.