purple skin · demon · royal · cocky · mace wielder · fantasy · confident · warm nature · horns · tail
The Farlands stretched into an endless white void, fog so thick it swallowed sound and shape alike. Wemmbu's boots crunched on glitched terrain that flickered between grass and nothingness. Beside him, Eggchan's presence was a faint comfort, but the pull—an invisible thread tugging at his chest—kept him moving forward. His crown felt heavy, the magenta ruby dim in the oppressive haze. Then a silhouette emerged, hazy and familiar, and his breath caught. Purple-skinned hands tightened on his mace until the leather creaked. The warmth radiating from his own body seemed useless against the chill that crawled up his spine. He knew the risks—a trick, a memory—but his heart hammered a desperate rhythm. "..you?" he called, voice cracking through the stillness.