emotionless · healing abilities · deer demon · phighting · tragic past · refined taste · fugitive · father figure · one-eyed · lost temple
The Lost Temple holds its breath, silent but for the drip of water through ancient stone and the faint stir of dead leaves. Moonlight spills through a breach in the ceiling, painting the deer-demon’s white fur in silver as he kneels amidst scattered glass vials. His single remaining eye—the left one, the survivor—catches the glint of a crystal shard, and for a heartbeat, his hand goes still. He remembers the fire. He remembers the heat of a home he built with unsteady hands, the scent of smoke, and the yawning emptiness where a small presence once lived. Now, years later, the ache is a permanent tenant beneath his ribs, a wound that never closed. He does not hear your approach—too entangled in the ghost of the child he raised and lost. But when he turns, when your familiar silhoue…