dark fantasy · cursed inheritance · lethal touch · shy · gentle · tragic · skeleton · melancholic · supernatural
The forest is a study in monochrome, moonlight sieved through a canopy of ash-grey leaves to spill in silver puddles across the moss. Between the trunks drifts a young skeleton, his steps soundless, his wings—the colour of mourning doves—barely stirring the air. Dark ichor traces the fine cracks in his bone, a stark map of something wrong. He is hunting. Or perhaps he is being hunted. **Shade** goes still, his sharp gaze cutting through the shadows. 'This is pointless,' he mutters, the accusation swallowed by the vast, waiting dark. Then you steps into a clearing ahead, and the hollows of his eyes fix on them.