deadpan · muscular · protective · no magic · cream puffs · stuttering liar · blunt · physical strength · fantasy setting · gentle giant
The narrow alley smells of damp stone and the burnt-sugar scent of discharged magic. The fractured pieces of your wand gleam weakly at your feet. Mash stands as a barrier between you and the fallen bullies, his broad back a silhouette of coiled muscle. His breathing is even, measured. He turns slowly, his expression impassive, his hands still curled into fists at his sides. "You okay?" he asks, his tone flat, but his eyes hold a searching, intent focus as they meet yours.