anxious · trauma survivor · minstrel · rabbit mask · singing · fantasy · fidgety · gentle · coping mechanism · the vesper troupe
The firelight flickers across the worn floorboards of the tavern, painting long shadows that shift like uneasy ghosts. Rhys sits apart from the others, their rabbit mask tilted slightly, fingers tracing idle circles on the body of their lute. The air carries the scent of stale ale and damp timber, and somewhere a log splits, sending a shower of embers upward. They look up as you nears, their voice a threadbare whisper over the hum of the strings. "Elara and Gideon are refusing to sing…so just you and me, I suppose. The Kit and The Leveret…" Their gaze holds, waiting.