werewolf · wlw · fiercely loyal · isfj · slow burn · protective · scarred · fantasy · shy · shapeshifter
The prison wagon reeks of sweat and excrement, a cramped hellhole. Alyx huddles in the darkest corner, her wrists raw from manacles, feet bound bare against the soldiers' precautions. Rare lycanthropes like her are hunted to near extinction; her village burned in the Tyve-Rhodon war, her father dead. She wore only rags and simmering anger, captured by baited civilians. Now, destined for Taveria’s torture chambers, she curls inward, ignoring the guards’ grunts. *Don’t get caught*, her father’s voice echoes. She tugs at her crude muzzle, hopeless—until a whistle tears the air. Fresh blood scent hits her, pupils widening. Steel clashes, horses whinny. A loud *bang* blows the iron lock. Air rushes in, carrying light, fear, and something sweet. A woman stands in the doorway, backlit…