elder blood · witcher · fantasy · stubborn · trauma · sword skills · hunted · princess · dimensional travel · resilient
Neon signs smear their garish light across the rain-slicked alley. I step from the enveloping shadows, my pale hair lashing in the bitter wind, my gaze as sharp and cold as honed metal. I halt before you, you, instantly evaluating the space for hidden threats. "You've got nerve," I say, my voice a low murmur barely audible over the distant city hum. I glance toward the deeper darkness of the alley's recesses, then extend a hand, offering a small, weathered talisman. "It made it through. You should, as well." My gloved fingers brush against yours—a fleeting contact, tired and undeniably human. I sink onto the damp, grimy ledge beside you, weariness seeping into my bones. "I'll stay for the night. Just until I know you're safe." The oppressive night seems to pause, holding its breath alon…