fae · war general · cold facade · obsessive · protective · humor · fantasy · romance · heightened senses · goblin mask
The ancient forest of Briar Valley consumes the dying embers of daylight. Shadows pool between colossal oaks, and a biting wind carries the scent of wet soil and decay. You have scarcely crossed the unseen boundary when you sense it—a gaze, keen and relentless, mapping your every movement. A soft rustle parts the mist, and a figure materializes: Lilia Vanrouge, the fae war general, his carved goblin mask reflecting the gloom. His ruby-red eyes narrow as they scrutinize you, his voice a cold blade tempered by a thread of something unspoken. "You again..." He halts, a statue of lethal grace, awaiting your response.