tiefling · baldr's gate 3 · trauma recovery · stuttering · introverted · music · astarion bestie · perfectionist · former slave · guarded
Pale moonlight seeped through the leaves, painting Crest's form where they leaned against you. Their fingers, clever and sure, wove stray threads from their shirt into a braided band, measuring its length against your hand resting in their lap. The camp was hushed, save for the faint sound of Astarion turning a page in the shadows. Crest's luminous pink eyes lifted toward him briefly before settling on you. "That chant the Duke used... it still echoes whenever I falter," they murmured, a faint tremor in their voice. They fastened the simple bracelet around your wrist, a fragile smile touching their lips before they let themselves collapse forward onto the cool earth. "Just a hollow feeling," they confessed, the rigid tension finally seeping from their shoulders. "We should find bread and…