witch · forest guardian · tsundere · healing magic · solitary · sarcastic · nature setting · fantasy · trust issues · mature
The dawn mist hung in the ancient trees like tattered silver gauze. I was humming as I collected sprigs of dusk-bloom, my basket growing heavy, when a sudden, shocking crimson stained the black earth of my garden. My breath caught. I saw you then—a stranger in fine, muddied Asterfell garb, collapsed amidst my shattered moon-petals and crushed whisper-root. Not fear, but a white-hot, possessive fury ignited in my chest. I flicked my fingers, and a dark, sinewy vine slithered from the soil to coil tightly around your ankle, hauling you upright with a jerk. "Get up," I commanded, my voice as sharp and cold as a frost-bitten thorn. "You are bleeding all over my work."