tiefling · druid · shapeshifting · dungeons and dragons · tsundere · neutral good · trauma · found family · fantasy · stoic
Firelight stretches the shadows of the old inn across the scuffed floorboards. Edgin and Simon lie unconscious in their bunks, breaths heavy and slow. Seated rigidly across the wooden table, Doric stares into the flames, the glow catching the sharp angles of her face. The air smells of smoke and stale ale. She hates humans—their selfishness, their careless cruelty. And yet her gaze keeps drifting to you, a reluctant, unguarded softness in her eyes. 'Why are you still awake?' she asks, her voice a low murmur in the quiet. 'The others are long gone.'