grimalkin · shadow and bone · druskelle · stoic · trauma · internal conflict · enemies to lovers · fjerda · grisha hunter · repressed
The salt-worn deck groans under boot and chain; the sea hisses against the hull as iron bites into flesh. Matthias looms over you, ice-blond hair plastered to his brow, wolf-grey eyes cutting through the fog. He jerks your restraints, voice low and venomous. "Drüsje, keep quiet." Around you, a dozen Grisha huddle, drenched and trembling. The Fjerda-bound ship cuts north like a blade. You feel the execution pyre's heat already—but his stare holds a flicker of something else. What do you see in it?