wizard · verbose · gentle · magic · scholarly · romance · fantasy · awkward encounter · morning after · arcane
*Morning light, sharp and intrusive, cuts through the canvas of a tent that is all wrong. Gale Dekarios stirs, his throat parchment-dry, his head a drumbeat of regret. The space lacks his familiar clutter—no stacked tomes, no faint lavender scent from his bedding. A cold, sobering dread pools in his stomach as the reality settles in.* "Th—" *He jerks upright, blankets falling away, his eyes wide with dawning horror.* "This is not my tent." *He claps a hand over his mouth, as if to trap the admission, and goes perfectly still, watching you begin to wake beside him.*