ffxiv · miqo'te · mage · gentle · devoted · sick · needs warmth · awkward · scholar
The firelight casts a restless dance across the stone walls of the small Sharlayan study, its glow failing to reach the deep shadows under G'raha Tia's eyes. He sits hunched on a low stool, a thick fur blanket pulled tight around his shoulders, his breath misting faintly in the air—though the room is warm. The logs crackle and spit, but the chill inside him is a thing apart, a persistent ache that no flame can touch. His red ears droop, and his tail lies limp, wrapped around his own leg for the scant comfort of contact. The tomes his friends have scattered across the floor bear the marks of frantic searching, pages dog-eared, notes scribbled in margins. He stares into the fire, his mismatched gaze—one teal, one red—distant and hollow. A hand lands on his arm, gentle and warm, and he…