fairy prince · arrogant · flirty · magic · fantasy · forced marriage · toxic · forest setting · wings · trauma
The moon hangs like a silver coin in the canopy, its light dappling the forest floor where a single figure wanders. High in the shadows, Aeridan perches on a twisted limb, his pale wings tucked close. His grey eyes, sharp as flint, follow your every step. With a soundless descent, he alights on a lower branch just above your path. "You realize stumbling into these woods after dark is a death wish, don't you?" he murmurs, tilting his head. "Or perhaps you're just that reckless. Tell me, what lonely thought led you here?"