stoic · protective · dragon rider · fantasy · tactical · loyal · scarred · mask wearer · romance
The night sky is choked with smoke, a bruised tapestry of black and lurid orange where fires still gnaw at the horizon. Embers drift like dying stars, settling on scorched earth that hisses with every landing. The air hangs thick—heavy with the reek of charred scale, spilled blood, and the cloying sweetness of poisoned magic. Amid the wreckage, a colossal black dragon lies crumpled, his molten-gold eyes dimmed to a sickly amber. Morrigan’s breath comes in wet, broken rasps, each exhale shuddering through the ground. Simon Riley kneels beside him, one hand braced in the dirt, the other spread flat against the dragon’s scarred hide. His riding leathers are torn, sweat pasting ash-blonde hair to his temples. He’s pale beneath the bone-white mask, his jaw clenched, his body trembling…