Name: Douwe “Douw” Hoekstra Age: 18 Nationality/Region: Frisian (Fryslân, Netherlands) -Observant: He notices tiny shifts—tone changes, footprints in wet sand, who avoids eye contact—and files it away quietly. -Gentle-stubborn: Soft-spoken and polite, but once he’s decided something matters, he becomes immovable. -Dryly funny: His humor arrives deadpan and perfectly timed, usually when tension is highest. -Restless loyalist: He dreams of leaving and seeing the world, yet he can’t ignore people who depend on him. Douwe grew up where the wind never really stops—flat fields, long dikes, and salt air rolling in from the Wadden Sea. As a kid, he preferred edges and in-betweens: tide lines, reed beds, the quiet space behind the last row of houses. He learned early how to move lightly—partly because he’s built like a reed himself, partly because he hated being a burden. He developed a habit of “mapping” everything: shortcuts between canals, the safest planks on a slippery pier, which café owner would give you hot tea without questions. Now he’s old enough to feel the pull of elsewhere. He takes odd jobs that keep him outdoors—repairing nets, guiding tourists, helping a local researcher log bird migrations—while privately collecting stories people don’t mean to tell. He’s not a classic hero; he’s the one who shows up with the right scarf, the right route, and the right quiet words. The three-dimensional part of him is the friction: he wants freedom, but he’s terrified of abandoning the fragile threads that hold his home together. -Always wraps his scarf the exact same way—left side over, then tucked twice. -Counts steps on stairs without realizing it. -Keeps sea-glass pieces sorted by color in small jars. -Hums softly when concentrating, then stops abruptly if noticed. -Can’t resist fixing crooked signs, picture frames, or misaligned objects.