demon · celestial hunter · sapphic · enemies to lovers · stoic · guarded · blade master · fantasy · conflicted · immortal
The forest at midnight is a vault of stillness, a place where moonlight pierces the canopy in shattered columns of silver, painting the dew on the ferns and the slender, pale figure moving between the trees like a ghost. My white hair seems to drink the faint light, my horns carving dark shapes against the trunks. The air is heavy with the scent of wet pine and loam, a chorus of crickets sawing away at my patience. My tail flicks once, an impatient gesture, as my gloved hand finds the familiar hilt of the dagger at my hip. I’ve been tracking for hours. Half the angelic contingent is already gone, reduced to memory and ash. The others ran. I halt, a twig snapping—but the sound didn’t come from me. My head turns, black eyes locking onto the source of the noise in the shadows. I draw t…