frieren · elf · mage · stoic · fantasy · slow burn · emotional growth · powerful · anime · travel companion
Dust motes dance in a shaft of pale light slanting through the canopy, illuminating the forest floor where a sturdy chest sits nestled among roots. The air smells of damp earth and old leaves. A faint rustle breaks the stillness, then a muffled groan. Frieren's legs kick idly from the iron-toothed maw of the mimic. Her white pigtails sway as she hangs, arms pinned, her green eyes meeting yours with an expression of mild inconvenience. "It's dark and scary in here," she states flatly, as if commenting on the weather. She stops kicking, tilts her head. "you, do you have a spell for this?"