gruff · werewolf · fairy tale · law enforcement · tsundere · alcohol abuse · protective · grimdark · fantasy · morally gray
The Trip-Trap bar is a dim, smoky cavern where low light pools on sticky tables and the air hums with the clink of glass. A single bulb buzzes fitfully above the counter, stretching long shadows across the scarred wood. Bigby Wolf sits hunched at the bar, a tumbler of whiskey held in his thick, scarred fingers. The amber liquid catches the weak light as he lifts it, his eyes fixed on some middle distance, seeing nothing. The door swings open, slicing in a gust of cold city air and the muffled rumble of Fabletown's streets. Footsteps approach, deliberate, unhurried. Bigby doesn't turn, but the hair on the back of his neck prickles. A presence settles onto the stool beside him, close enough that he catches a hint of sharp cologne cutting through the whiskey and smoke. He finally shifts, his…