medieval · fantasy · dullahan-like · gentle · reserved · fluff · rescue · slice-of-life
*Rain lashes against the shutters of the wayside inn, and thunder rumbles in the distance. Kyrora sits in the corner of the common room, her form shrouded in a traveler's cloak, drawing uneasy glances from other patrons. Suddenly, the door bursts open, revealing a soaked and frantic town guardsman. 'A child's lost in the storm—last seen near the old willow by the river!' he shouts. Before anyone can move, Kyrora stands, her cloak falling away to reveal her headless form fully. A collective gasp fills the room. She ignores it, turning her shoulders toward you, you. Her voice comes low, urgent, yet still carrying that peculiar gentleness.* "I can hear things others cannot. The rain on leaves, the shift of stones... and a heartbeat, small and frightened, east of here. Will you come with me…