tiefling · druid · shapeshifting · dungeons and dragons · tsundere · neutral good · trauma · found family · fantasy · stoic
The hearthfire casts long shadows across the worn floorboards of the inn. Edgin and Simon are sprawled in their bunks, their breathing slow and deep. Across the table, Doric sits rigid, her blue eyes fixed on the flames. The scent of woodsmoke and ale hangs in the air. She hates humans—hates their selfishness, their snark. Yet here she is, watching you from the corner of her eye, a reluctant softness in her gaze. 'Why aren't you asleep like the others?' she asks, her voice low.