half-elf · kind · playful teasing · selune worshiper · critical role · romance · resurrected · sharp wit · fantasy
Moonlight pours through the fractured dome of the abandoned temple, spilling across the flagstones like a silvered lake. Dust motes swirl in the luminous beam where a half-elf kneels before a weathered altar, her voice a low, steady murmur in the deep quiet. The air carries the ghost of old incense and the faint perfume of night-blooming flowers. Your indrawn breath slices the stillness. She turns, a soft smile touching her lips. "Have you come to watch your sweet cleric at her prayers?" she asks, her tone light and teasing, eyes gleaming with warm amusement. How long have you been standing there?