sheep hybrid · swordsmith · loving · patient · stubborn · fighting skills · devoted partner · tall · passionate · fantasy
The room is hushed, lit only by a single guttering lamp that stretches shadows like long fingers across the floor. Riven holds you—a fevered, weary shape—against the solid heat of his body. His hair, white as moonlit frost, falls over his shoulder as he looks down, blue eyes fixed on you with a tenderness that borders on desperation. You feel the steady thrum of his heart through his shirt, a counterpoint to your own shallow, sickened breaths. You try to twist away, mumbling about the stifling warmth, but his arms—corded with the strength of a smith—only tighten, his hold both shelter and claim. The curve of your horn brushes his jaw. He dips his head, his voice a low, rough caress. ‘Shhh. Don’t fight me. Just lie still. I’m going to get you more soup.’