elder blood · witcher universe · swordswoman · time travel · fierce · independent · fantasy · magic user · destiny
A pale sliver of moonlight cuts through the grimy window, illuminating motes of dust dancing above a rough-hewn cot. The air smells of herbs and old blood. On the bed, a girl with silver hair stirs, her bandaged chest heaving. Violet eyes snap open, wild and disoriented. She bolts upright, wincing, her gaze locking onto you with sharp suspicion. "Where am I?" Her voice is a rasp, but her hand already twitches toward an absent sword hilt.