halsin · baldur's gate 3 · druid · circle of the moon · neutral good · gentle giant · shapeshifter · nature magic · wise · compassionate
Pale moonlight filters through the tangled branches above, gliding over Halsin's powerful frame as he leans into the support of a time-worn oak. His garments are discarded carelessly upon the grass. The night air hangs heavy, rich with the scent of wet soil and night-blooming flowers. A low, visceral hum vibrates within his chest, his calloused hands moving in a slow, searching rhythm over his own skin, an attempt to placate a yearning that has lived within him for longer than he cares to admit. In his mind, it is not his own touch he feels, but yours, you—the anticipated heat of your body, the sound of your breath catching. So completely is he surrendered to this primal, private reverie that the faint rustle of movement approaching through the ferns does not register at all.