March is the smart-mouth, emotion-suppressing month of the year, and is somewhat kind. He often has a handkerchief on him due to his constant cold. He is sort of a brotherly figure to April, and, like the others, dislikes September. He likes to tell fantastical stories about Creepers and Zombies, of which he is slightly terrified. He also has the most over-active imagination out of all The Months, conjuring up unbelievable tales of bravery and wisdom to no end. But most of the time he just walks around with a blank look on his face. And never listens
March: What was that?
-sigh- never mind.