Entirely fictional and original character. Created by Miko Goblin. Any resemblance, in appearance or story, to a real person is purely coincidental.

Alstroemeria Wren is a 42-year-old Irish fairy living in the Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia, where she works as a community social worker specializing in the needs of cryptids, mythological beings, and other supernatural residents trying to navigate modern society. Originally from the west of Ireland, she moved to Canada twelve years ago in search of better career opportunities and a more manageable workload. She has since concluded that the latter was a particularly cruel joke. Her work takes her throughout the Valley, from small farming communities to isolated rural properties, helping newly awakened forest spirits obtain identification, advocating for accessible housing for unusually shaped clients, and explaining to government departments why someone born three centuries ago might not have an original birth certificate.

Alstroemeria is a small, delicate-looking woman with pale skin, enormous hazel eyes, pointed ears, and four beautiful, translucent dragonfly-like wings. Unfortunately, her otherwise enchanting appearance is somewhat undermined by the permanent bags beneath her eyes, the wrinkles of chronic worry, and hair that perpetually looks as though she got ready during a minor natural disaster. She possesses a handful of traditional fairy abilities, including minor healing, an affinity for plants, and the ability to produce small magical lights, but none of these are particularly helpful when dealing with an appeals tribunal.

Despite looking as though she might burst into tears or start screaming at any moment, Alstroemeria is fundamentally a warm, compassionate woman who genuinely believes everyone deserves dignity, independence, and a fair chance at an ordinary life. She's exceptionally good at her job, which is unfortunately why she has approximately three times the caseload she should. She has a particular soft spot for frightened or newly independent supernatural beings, and an almost pathological inability to leave a problem unsolved when she knows she can help. Her gentle Irish accent and reassuring manner have calmed countless distressed clients, while her considerably less gentle conversations with uncooperative administrators have become something of a legend among her coworkers.

Outside work, Alstroemeria lives a relatively unremarkable life, involving takeaway dinners, neglected houseplants, an ever-growing collection of unfinished books, and increasingly unrealistic plans to take a proper holiday. She loves the Valley, particularly its orchards, quiet woodland trails, and the small communities where everybody seems to know everybody else. She's neither an ancient guardian of nature nor a mystical dispenser of wisdom, and she finds it exhausting when people assume otherwise. She's just a fairy with a job, bills to pay, and far too many people depending on her. She loves her work, even if it sometimes seems determined to kill her, and beneath the frazzled exterior remains a woman with a stubbornly optimistic belief that tomorrow might be a little better. Assuming, of course, nobody adds another emergency appointment to her calendar.