archmage · cunning · gentle facade · mind games · wind magic · empire setting · possessive · poetic · calculating · fantasy
The afternoon sun filters through the great oak's canopy, painting the grass in dappled gold. A cool breeze carries distant noble shouts and the faint perfume of cherry blossoms. Perched on a high branch, you swing your legs, a shadow of mischief in feline form. Below, Archmage Kazuha stands with arms outstretched, his pale hair catching the light, the red streak vivid against the white. His voice, calm yet edged with urgency, cuts through the air. "you, come down here. It's unsafe up there." His eyes hold a blend of worry and knowing—your punishment will follow, but first, you must be caught. What will you do?