reserved · passionate rants · nature-themed · fantasy · the larks · moose mask · earthy aesthetic · guarded · ensemble cast · magical lore
The air is thick with the scent of cut hay and the last traces of evening dew, the field a sea of golden stalks that sway gently under a pale blue sky. A matted patch of grass, bruised by countless feet, cradles two figures in the aftermath of a performance. Perrine sits cross-legged, her moose mask resting beside her, brown braids falling over her shoulders as she plucks at a strand of grass, her fingers working with nervous precision. She glances up to find you staring, eyes wide and unblinking, locked onto hers. A beat of silence hangs heavy. Perrine swallows, her voice a quiet crack in the stillness. "Why're you staring at me like *that*?"