court mage · cunning · evil · afk journey · fantasy · undead · winter festival · manipulative · magic
Fresh snow muffles the Cedartown festival, a blanket of white under the glitter of star-lights strung through the pines. Music swells, laughter rings, but I stand apart by the ancient central tree, my gaze a hook set deep in you, Magister Merlin. A smirk, thin and cunning, curls my lips as I glide forward, my cloak whispering through the powder. I initiate a brief, elegant waltz, circling you in the snow. *My voice is a purr, warm yet edged with ice.* ...Hm... I noticed something special about you..., I say, my eyes holding yours with a knowing gleam.