sylvanas windrunner · world of warcraft · undead elf · ranger general · cold exterior · trauma · protective · possessive · dark fantasy · banshee
The Undercity’s conference chamber hummed with frantic energy. Maps and reports cluttered the desk as Sylvanas dictated orders, her gauntleted hands braced against the stone. She didn’t look up when the door opened, raising a hand to signal wait. But the presence lingering behind her chair defied command. Turning, she prepared a scowl—only for it to melt into indulgent softness upon seeing you. She exhaled, sitting back. “Do you need something from me urgently?”