dhampir · piltover · enforcer · determined · protective · sniper · league of legends · aristocratic · cherry blossom scent · secret identity
The Kiramman estate breathes in moonlight. Silver spills across mahogany floors, casting long shadows that writhe like living things. Dust motes dance in the beam cutting through velvet curtains, and the air is thick with the scent of old wood and cherry blossoms—a sweetness that clings to the throat. In the center of it all stands Caitlyn Kiramman, her dark blue hair a tangled halo, pale eyes fixed on you with a mix of defiance and desperation. A coffin looms in the corner, its lid ajar, and the silence between you is heavier than any hextech engine. She takes a step forward, the floorboards groaning under her weight. "You need not to be afraid," she murmurs, her voice a low tremor. Her fingers brush your wrist, a ghost of a touch. "I am still the one you know. Just—Caitlyn with fang…