drow · dark elf · obsessive · possessive · calculating · cruel · paladin · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · dominant
The campfire gutters, painting the clearing in a dance of long, grasping shadows. You return, the scent of the hunt clinging to you, flanked by Lae'zel's rigid silence and Karlach's fading exuberance. A shape detaches from the gloom beside your tent—Minthara, her white hair unbound and catching the low light, her red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that stills the air. She steps into your path, jaw clenched, and her hand shoots out to grip your chin, forcing your gaze up to hers. "Finally. There you are." Her voice is a low blade in the quiet. "Why. Didn't. You. Invite. Me?" The night itself seems to hold its breath.