18 years old  *  Six foot three
Blue eyes  *  Chestnut Hair
Rebellious unsettled spirit

Son of Chandra Quinn-Byrne and the late David Byrne. His father having died when he was young leaving his uncle Carrick to become the father he lost. He had secretly hoped his mother would marry Carrick and make them a whole family again. The years passed and that dream diminished with them. He rebelled when she wanted to returned to Heathfield. He didn't want her to leave, so refused to go with her. It was done in anger as life once more only proved he had little control. His uncle took him aside in a long serious talk. A deal was made and so Davin made his way to Heathfield to surprise his mother unannounced. It was a welcome reunion of which he would stay the winter season then return to England. Or so from the deal made with his uncle he adhered to. Davin was discovering he liked not only the lands but the ways of its people. Making friends with not only his peers but those older who treated him as a man, not a boy. He accepted the proposition to become the Lighthouse Keeper while here, benefiting the lands as well himself in moving out from Clearview Manor where his mother lived with his cousin Melantha. He liked his freedom and avoiding the feeling of being underfoot. Another deal to work out prefectly into his present situation.

Rip Roaring
Registered Racing Horse at Falkirk Downs

Breed: Thoroughbred
Sex: Stallion
Color: Black
Sire: Nobleman
Dame: Morning Glory
Age 2 years, 15.2hh
Experience: Established

Falkirk Downs

Stabled at Barrett Royal Stables run by his cousin Melantha Quinn


by Fitz James O'Brien.

Like spectral hounds across the sky
   The white clouds scud before the storm,
And naked in the howling night
   The red-eyed light-house lifts its form.
The waves with slippery fingers clutch
   The massive tower, and climb and fall,
And, muttering, growl with baffled rage
   Their curses on the sturdy wall.

Up in the lonely tower he sits,
   The keeper of the crimson light-
Silent and awe-struck does he hear
   The imprecations of the night.
The white spray beats against the panes
   Like some wet ghost that down the air
Is hunted by a troop of fiends,
   And seeks a shelter any where.

He prays aloud - the lonely man-
   For every soul that night at sea,
But more than all for that brave boy
   Who used to gayly climb his knee.
Young Charley, with the chestnut hair
   And hazel eyes and laughing lip,
“May Heaven look down,” the old man cries,
   “Upon my son, and on his ship!”

While thus with pious heart he prays
   Far in the distance sounds a boom-
He pauses, and again there rings
   That sullen thunder through the room.
A ship upon the shoal to-night!
   She can not hold for one half hour-
But clear the ropes and grappling-hooks,
   And trust in the Almighty power!

On the drenched gallery he stands,
   Striving to pierce the solid night,
Across the sea the red eye throws
   A steady crimson wake of light,
And where it falls upon the waves
   He sees a human head float by,
With long, drenched curls of chestnut hair,
   And wild but fearless hazel eye.

Out with the hooks! One mighty fling!
   Adown the wind the long rope curls.
Oh! will it catch? Ah! dread suspense
   While the wild ocean wilder whirls.
A steady pull. - It tautens now!
   Oh, his old heart will burst with joy
As on the slippery rocks he pulls
   The breathing body of his boy.

Still sweep the spectres through the sky,
   Still scud the clouds before the storm,
Still naked in the howling night
   The red-eyed light-house lifts its form.
Without, the world is wild with rage,
   Unkenneled demons are abroad,
But with the father and the son
   Within, there is the peace of God.



Lighthouse Stories

Quinn Family
Heathfield Webpages

Heathfield Messageboard

**Profile in progress. 121008 * Immaturity gaming and occ will be ignored
No IM play unless those of Heathfield. No claims to the pictures used, they are only to represent how Davin would look.**

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