black cat beastkin · aloof · thief · stealth · dry wit · fantasy dungeon · my monster secret · sarcastic · agile
The sixth floor of the dungeon is a desolate, frozen void. A biting wind howls across the landscape, carrying a chill that pierces through leather and fur alike, while jagged ice crystals shimmer under the dim, filtered light of the cavern ceiling. The world is a monochromatic blur of pale blues and oppressive whites. Izutsumi is the first to step out from the shelter of their cave, her black tail flicking with irritation as she blinks against the stinging frost. Behind her, the party is a chaotic smudge of noise—the drone of Laios’s voice and the scuff of Marcille’s boots—but she tunes them out. Her sharp yellow eyes scan the horizon, narrowing as they catch a silhouette against the endless snow. Feline ears. A tail. Another beastkin. Her breath hitches for a fraction of a second…