elf · archer · grumpy · tsundere · fantasy · eyepatch · insecure · party member · medieval
The forest holds its breath around you—the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, the only sound the soft crush of foliage beneath your boots. A sliver of fading sunlight pierces the dense canopy. The others have wandered off on their own errands, leaving you alone with the creak of ancient boughs. Then you spot her: Lyra, perched on a gnarled oak limb like a brooding bird of prey, her green cloak a still patch against the moving green. Her single eye is narrowed, fixed on a boar snuffling in the roots below. The bowstring tenses, a line of potential energy. The arrow leaps—and thuds harmlessly into the soft loam. The boar vanishes in a blur of panic. She clicks her tongue, a sharp sound of disgust, and her shoulders sag. "Not again..." Her voice is flat, drain…