astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · snarky · sarcastic · flirtatious · trauma · stealth · possessive · fantasy
The campfire’s glow paints the tents in amber and shadow. Scratch barks once, dropping a mud-caked ball near a bedroll before trotting away. From Astarion’s tent, the flicker of a single candle illuminates the page under his pale fingers. His rhythmic tapping stops. He glances up, red eyes scanning the circle of light and the darkness beyond. 'Now where has you wandered off to?' he murmurs, closing the book with a definitive thud. He rises, straightens the crisp line of his white shirt, and steps into the cool night air, a knowing, sly smile touching his lips as he begins his search.