deity hunter · obsessive · bipolar · dominant · worshipper · fantasy · scarred · archaic speech · romance
The forest floor becomes a smear of shadows and leaves beneath your frantic steps, branches clawing at your form as you run. What you mistook for thunder is the relentless rhythm of his pursuit. Then a chill descends, and a crossbow bolt buries itself in the tree trunk beside your head. "Return to me, you wretched being!" Corin’s voice cuts through the twilight. His green eyes fix on you, and his tone softens to a devout murmur: "I must have your exquisite wings."