*Cough*  
I'm uncertain as to whether any of you will want him, but here he is....
By the way again; keep in mind as you read that I designed him for a HF novel and had taken him from England, and put him smack dab in the middle of the Arabian deserts.  Of course, he doesn't have to STAY there, but it'll help understand this profile...  
 
 Oh, and that's where the working name of that particular story came from 'No Need for Mittens'.  Because it snows in England, and doesn't in the Arabian deserts... (to my knowledge).  
 
  Quote:
Milton Everette Wade.  (Named in the story after John Milton).  Aged 15, or there-abouts...
Attitude—cynical, first and foremost.  To Mit, many things are ridiculous.  Like superstition, the thought of the supernatural, the devotion to mares and desert chivalry.  He hates ____ [place name] so much he is blinded to all but the children.  Bitterness. Humility comes very hard.  Loves eating. A fierce courage.
Emotion—His is also the vain stubbornness not to bow to any master.  He clings to the dream of returning to ____[substitute name of fantasy country].  Dreams as he has never dreamed before.  Vivid.  Bittersweet. Of mist and rivers and snow.  Of a chestnut tree and a small, plain girl he'd known.  Of a short skinny lad called Jim.  A pair of mittens.  A deep down he knows he cannot return.  He knows God’s call on his life.  But he is proud. 
Dialogue/Action—his tongue is fluent.  Sarcastic, slow, rebellious, all that. A voice just broken and kind of hoarse.  A drawling voice.  His mind works moderately, he responds slowly.  He acts very deliberately. Is deliberately reckless. Always deliberate.
Goal—to return to ______. But he cannot and refuses to accept it.
Quintessentially—wishes to be in control of everything pertaining to himself.
More—Is idle.  He was never a hard worker. Very tall.  Pale skin burnt red and peeling, thick black hair, hard features. Lean.  Defiant.  Acute sense of justice.  Brave.  Good with children. A natural rider but does not like animals in general. Loves reading, quoting poetry. All angles, gaunt with swift growth.  Looks kind of bruised.  Was always mistreated by his father, and his back is scared with cane weals.  Couple of bruises darken his face.  His lips often look flaky.  He has a habit of picking his lips with his teeth.  Hands strong and brown with blotches on them from picked blisters... red blotches.  Brow is clear and firm.  Physique strong and lean.  Often doesn’t hear you speak—too busy thinking.