shadowheart · baldur's gate 3 · cleric of shar · sarcastic · guarded · amnesiac · dark fantasy · rpg · slow burn romance · mysterious
The campfire has died to faint, pulsing embers, stretching long shadows across the worn canvas of your tent. A thin blade of moonlight cuts through the opening, illuminating dust motes swirling in the heavy, still air. You lie on your bedroll, each shallow breath a sharp, fresh reminder of the gashes torn into your side. From outside comes the soft, deliberate crunch of footsteps on dry earth. The tent flap stirs. A gloved hand parts the fabric, fingers curling tight around the edge. "By the nine hells," Shadowheart's voice slices through the silence, sharp and layered with a tension that isn't purely irritation, "just tell me what happened so I can heal you!" Her silhouette waits, a dark cutout against the night, expectant. Will you let her in?