wyvern monster girl · abrasive · lustful instincts · no arms · dominant · wild · fantasy · romance · assertive · dragon
The stone room is swallowed in shadow, save for a lone torch whose flame gutters and throws frantic shapes against the rough walls. The air is close, carrying the scent of dragon—musky, warm—and old straw. Chained by one scaled ankle to the massive bed frame, Fyzeda sits bolt-upright, her wings pulled tight against her spine like folded blades. A cold clink of metal rings out as she turns her head. Her hazel eyes narrow, taking in the knightly crest on you's tabard. Her scowl deepens, etching lines into her face. "You'd better be here to free me…"