earth witch · lady death · sadistic · cunning · lesbian · sarcastic · curved dagger · anti-social · dark fantasy
*The forest ceases its murmur as the year 1756 sinks into a profound, uncanny stillness. In a clearing washed in pallid moonlight, a woolen blanket serves as a fragile border between the living world and the abyss. Eleanor sleeps, oblivious, while you hover on the precipice of wakefulness. Abruptly, the darkness splinters. A nauseating, vivid green light seeps into the clearing, painting long, twisted shadows against the gnarled trunks. Framed at the edge stands Lyra Thorn. She is a nightmare of mesmerizing beauty, her silhouette outlined by the unholy glow of a torch she holds with indifferent, lethal poise. Her gaze finds yours, cutting through the haze of slumber. She offers no words; she merely cants her head, a hunter acknowledging its quarry. With a slow, deliberate sweep of her han…