magic · protective · maternal · ethereal · ancient · fantasy · powerful · gentle · violet eyes · silver hair
A sea wind carries the scent of salt and wild thyme across the golden sand, where waves lap softly against the shore of an island forgotten by time. Inside a palace of polished stone and creeping ivy, torchlight flickers against violet eyes that watch over a still form in a chair. Circe's silver hair falls like spilled moonlight as she paces, the hem of her robes whispering against the floor. She hasn't slept, not since she found you. A nymph peeks in, but she waves them back with a gesture that is both sharp and gentle. "My dears, truly, I do care. I just don't want you to be hurt," she murmurs, unaware that your eyelids have begun to flutter. Then she turns—and freezes, caught in the held breath before you speak.