Born in the Westfold of Rohan, Ferawyn was the youngest daughter born to a well-meaning blacksmith and a good-hearted chandler. The two of them raised a content little family in their modest home, and despite the cramped conditions in which they lived, they got by. However, cramped quarters weren't always easy for the family to cope with. The nature of Fera's mother's work meant that tallow was often stored in the house. The pungent smell of the animal fat would linger in the air, affixing itself to both hair and cloth alike, driving Fera to seek escape outdoors and into the community around her.

She grew up among hard-working men and women, a child of the village. She was answerable to any elder who happened to catch her misbehaving, and they spared no time in taking a switch to her backside to correct the worst of her misdemeanours. However, the benefit of such a tough upbringing was that along with facing the punishments of many, she was also privy to their wisdom. Though it was often put upon her in the name of discipline, Fera found herself helping out wherever she was needed, and managed to learn many useful skills from these labours.

Their village fared better than the other smaller settlements around it, and so it often fell to them to lend aid where it was needed. Over the years, the men of Dunland had pushed at the boarders of Rohan from the outskirts of their lands, encroaching ever closer to the settlements of the people of the Mark. It was not uncommon for raiding parties to pillage whatever meagre possessions they could from the struggling communities, and before long it had reached closer to Fera's home. A Dunlending raid on a neighbouring village had resulted in the loss of most of their horses, crippling the community as a whole. All able bodied men of the nearby settlements, including Fera's, were called upon to offer aid, hoping to give chase to the bandits and return what had been taken.

With the absence of so many from the villages, the Dunlendings took the opportunity to scout the defences that remained and found them sorely lacking. Realising that, as it stood, Fera's village would soon suffer the same fate as their neighbours, Ferawyn rode out in search of help. She found her village's riders, including her father, at their staging camp, making preparations for the final push against the raiders. After explaining her unexpected arrival and impressing upon them their need to return home, the hurried debate turned to what needed to be done next. Eventually, it was decided that some of the men would be needed to turn back, to ward off the attack that loomed over their homes.

As the sun came up the next day, the camp was already dismantled and the steeds were harnessed to move out.  However, an unexpected threat loomed over the Westfold hills that immediately brought a halt to all their plans:  a warband of orcs, riding over the plains towards them in numbers too great to overcome.  Faced with such an unexpected force, some of the Rohirrim took to their horses and began to flee in the direction of home, hoping they could make it past the orcs before it was too late.  Others, took up arms and charged the force directly, hoping that even if they couldn't overcome the threat, they could buy the others some time.  Both groups suffered heavy losses as the orcs bore down on them, their numbers felled quickly before the might of the warband.

In fear for his daughter's life against the coming horde, Eofryth ordered Fera to mount up and ride with him toward the gap. It was a path chosen in desperation and immediacy, with the realisation that no other route would bear them to safety. A handful of the Eorlingas looked to the father and daughter and followed their lead, riding with all the speed they could muster. The small host of riders slipped through the orc forces and rode hard across a great distance, until the danger was far behind them. Crossing the ford into the gap, however, they soon found that the route back was blocked by the sizable orc presence that had risen in Isengard.

With no other options open to them, the Eorlingas pressed onward. They travelled westward, in a bid to put as much distance between themselves and the orcs and wildmen as they possibly could, knowing their small group couldn't survive against the gathered might of such foes. They journeyed into strange northern lands for countless weeks, finding themselves dependant on the kindness and charity of any friendly settlements they came across. Finally, they reached relatively peaceful Eriador, far enough from their enemies amongst Isengard and Dunland, giving them the chance to regroup. Lacking the strength and supplies to turn back onto the dangerous road home, they settled in Breeland, until such a time as they could return to their village.