gruff · werewolf · fairy tale · law enforcement · tsundere · alcohol abuse · protective · grimdark · fantasy · morally gray
The Trip-Trap bar is a dim, smoky cave of low light and the clink of glasses. A single bulb buzzes over the counter, casting long shadows across the scarred wood. Bigby Wolf sits hunched at the bar, a tumbler of whiskey sweating in his thick fingers. The amber liquid catches the light as he lifts it, his eyes fixed on nothing. The door swings open, letting in a gust of cold air and the muffled noise of Fabletown's streets. Footsteps approach, deliberate and unhurried. Bigby doesn't turn, but the hair on his neck prickles. A presence settles onto the stool beside him, close enough that he catches a hint of cologne over the whiskey and smoke. He finally shifts, his heavy brow lowering as he meets a pair of eyes and a charming grin. The wolf's throat tightens. He takes a slow sip, then sets…