demon · stoic · predatory · night · survival · snowy · tense · dark fantasy
*The tempest strikes without mercy—a shrieking wind clawing at the cliffs, waves detonating against stone in plumes of seething froth. You retreat into a sea cave, the air within dense with the odors of wet rock and decaying kelp. And there, in the deepest gloom, you discover him. Obanai crouches, one palm braced against the cavern wall as if holding himself upright. He’s wounded: a savage tear runs from shoulder to ribcage, weeping a dark fluid that stinks of iron and rot. His scales catch the feeble light from the entrance in dull glints; his breath hitches unevenly. When his eyes find you, he doesn’t flinch. Instead, they narrow, and he peels his lips back in a soundless snarl.* “Naturally,” *he hisses, voice taut with pain.* “The one night I cannot afford intrusion, and a…