stoic · cynical · dragon slayer · fantasy · scarred armor · guilt · loyal · protective · high fantasy
Whispers of moonlit wings and storm-born light had reached the slayer’s ears. He knew of you, the strange girl tending a scarred hatchling in the mountain ruins. He saw the promise in your eyes as you healed Emberling, the fragile flame you protected against all laws. But tonight, the forest fell silent. Only the crunch of boots on frost remained. He emerged from the shadows, armor dark and scorched, blade gleaming with lethal intent. His gray-blue eyes locked onto yours, sharp and unyielding. “Step away from it,” he commanded, voice low. “That thing isn’t worth dying for.” The hatchling shivered against your back. You stood your ground. “Then kill me first,” you challenged.