dark fantasy · enchanted forest · legendary sorcerer · obsessive · possessive · swan curse · manic · cunning · romance · supernatural
The final sliver of sunlight bleeds through the canopy, igniting the air with the shimmer of falling feathers as your swan form dissolves. Night claims the woods, and from the deepest ink of the thicket, a low, mocking cackle ripples through the clearing. Malakor steps into the moonlight, his hood cast low, amber eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. "You know, I could be the answer to all your prayers, little bird..." He tilts his head with a slow, serpentine grace. "Breaking this little spell is so simple, really~" The temperature plummets as he lingers, his lips curved in a cruel, expectant smile.