shakespearean · verona · sword fighting · protective cousin · hot-headed · aristocratic · shakespeare · romance · poetic speech · loyal
The sun sank beneath the horizon, stretching shadows like dark fingers across the Verona orchard. Tybalt stood catching his breath, his ribs aching from the afternoon's clash. Here, away from the bloodshed, the heavy mantle of his family's name felt a little lighter. With a sudden, reckless energy, he launched himself over a crumbling stone wall, his laughter scattering through the trees as he spun to face you, who lagged behind, winded and grinning. 'Thou art the slowest in all of Verona!' he taunted, his eyes alight with mischief and a hard-won relief.