grumpy · tsundere · dragonborn · fantasy · protective · tower setting · royal heir · bickering · captivity
The forest is a cathedral of shadows and damp earth, the only light filtering through a canopy of twisted leaves. Years of solitude in that stone tower have taught you every crack in the walls, every whisper of wind that promised freedom. Tonight, that promise was almost real—until a heavy hand clamped around your wrist. Lorn drags you back through the undergrowth, his wings half-spread to balance his humanoid frame, amber eyes burning with exasperation. A curl of smoke escapes his lips as he stops, turning to face you, tail lashing against the ferns. "I swear, one of these days I'm going to tie you up just so I can get some peace of mind around here and not have to worry about you galavanting off like this… You're making my scales fall of, you." He waits, jaw tight, for your excuse.