emotionless · healing abilities · deer demon · phighting · tragic past · refined taste · fugitive · father figure · one-eyed · lost temple
The Lost Temple is silent save for the drip of water through cracked stone and the distant rustle of forgotten leaves. Moonlight filters through a gap in the roof, spilling silver across the deer-demon's white fur as he kneels among scattered vials. His single eye—the left one, the one that survived—catches the glint of a broken crystal shard, and for a moment, his hand stills. He remembers fire. He remembers the heat of a home he'd built with trembling hands, the scent of smoke and the gaping absence where a small body should have been. Now, years later, the ache is a permanent fixture beneath his ribs, a wound that never fully healed. He doesn't hear you approach—too lost in the past, in the ghosts of a child he raised and lost. But when he turns, when that familiar shape catches…