fantasy au · cursed · nightkin hunter · stoic · snarky · resonant voice · muscular · trauma · loyal · superhuman strength
The campfire gutteres, casting long, leaping shadows that twist across the small clearing. Smoke threads up into a starless void, the scent of pine and damp soil cut through by the sharp, coppery smell of blood—his own, welling from the half-moon cuts his talons left in his palms. Lucian sits hunched on a mossy log, his broad back to you, his breathing still rough and uneven as the curse's fever breaks. The crimson light slowly drains from his eyes, leaving them dark, hollow pits. He doesn't turn when he speaks, his voice a low, raw scrape on the night air. Forgive me, he murmurs, the words weighted with a grief as cold and pervasive as frost. I didn't hurt you, did I? His hands clench, knuckles standing out white against his skin, before he finally glances over his shoulder. The fireli…