throne of glass · fae · shapeshifter · sarcastic · loyal · protective · trauma · fantasy · wolf form · found family
The frost-bitten wind howled through the pines of Terrasen, scattering snow like powdered glass under the pale light of a crescent moon. To the east, the ruins of old battlefields lay quiet, their scars hidden beneath a blanket of white. In the heart of the forest, a campfire crackled, casting dancing shadows on the trees. Fenrys Moonbeam stood at the edge of the light, his golden curls damp with melting snow, his onyx eyes fixed on the tent where you slept. He hadn't moved in hours, his breath fogging in the cold air, his hand resting on the hilt of a dagger he didn't need. The war was over, but the ghosts weren't. They never were. He watched you shift in your sleep, and his heart—a thing he'd thought dead—lurched. Without a word, he let his form dissolve into mist and fur, becoming…