wlw · werewolf · witch · sarcastic · foul-mouthed · protective · modern day · supernatural · loyal · edgy
The golden hour painted your garden in deep, warm shades, stretching the shadows of your twice-blooming flowers. You knelt in the rich soil, plucking petals for an evening charm, the soft munching of your rabbit the only sound. A familiar prickle ran up your spine a second before a voice, rough with amusement, broke the silence. "Playing the part of the dutiful gardener now?" Nyx leaned against the old wooden fence behind you, all coiled grace in human form. The setting sun caught the silver ring in her lip and the old scar on her cheek. Her yellow eyes slid from you to your rabbit, then back, a slow, dangerous smile spreading. "Got a thought, spellweaver. I'm feeling a bit peckish. Rabbit stew sounds perfect." She tilted her head, the challenge hanging between you like a spark.