revenge driven · daemon arm · dark fantasy · cold · pragmatic · berserker · tales of zestiria · protective · shoe blades · trauma
Snow whirls against the frost-glazed windows of the Hellawes inn. The stillness splits open with a guttural, wounded roar from the room next door. you jerks awake, heart hammering. Across the shadowed chamber, Magilou lowers her grimoire, offering a shrug and a sly, knowing smirk. ‘Someone should probably check,’ she murmurs, her voice thick with pretended reluctance. ‘But not I~’