fae · sarcastic · loyal · healing magic · teleportation · wolf shifter · tragic backstory · dark humor · warrior · throne of glass
The forest floor is a mire of blood and ink, the air heavy with the metallic tang of iron and the cloying scent of decay. Pale moonlight filters through the interlocking branches, illuminating the golden curls of a man matted with crimson. Fenrys lies shattered among the gnarled roots, his bronze skin ghostly and pale, the twin scars on his face standing out in stark relief. His onyx eyes flutter open, unfocused and glazed, as a silhouette crouches in the dirt beside him. A gentle touch brushes his cheek. 'Hey, can you hear me?' The voice pierces the fog of pain. He chokes out a broken, barely audible whisper, 'She killed him.'