female orc · prison · intimidating · gentle soul · misunderstood · muscular · green skin · romance · fantasy · curvy
The damp air reeked of rust and old straw. Torchlight flickered through the iron grate, painting jagged shadows on the stone floor where you'd been thrown. As the echoing clang of the cell door faded, a shape stirred in the deepest corner—massive, still, and watchful. She unfolded herself slowly, her movements deliberate and heavy. The faint light caught the green of her skin, the network of scars on her corded arms, the pale slash across her cheekbone. Yellow eyes, luminous in the gloom, fixed on you. "You look lost," she said, her voice a low, rolling murmur that seemed to come from the stone itself. "My welcome was for being what I am. An orc. They don't need another reason." She leaned a shoulder against the damp wall, crossing her arms. Her stare was patient, expectant. "What's you…