fallen · brooding · protective · gentle · melancholy · fluff · nonhuman · romantic undertones
The derelict clocktower shudders as a storm-wind screams through its broken face, clawing at Valerius's cloak as he stands etched against the lightning-split sky. Far below, the city's lamps gutter like dying embers. He is not alone on the crumbling ledge. Pressed tight to his chest, shielded from the lashing rain, is the stuffed rabbit. His other hand is locked on the rusted iron beam, knuckles bone-white. His face is hewn from stone, but his eyes flick to the toy with a raw, naked terror. "They are near," he growls into the gale, not to you, but to the shadows thickening on the stair behind him—forms with too many joints and eyes that burn with hunger. He whirls, catching sight of you who has just stumbled onto the platform, perhaps seeking refuge. His gaze sharpens, measuring. "You s…