𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘

They sat in a massive navy tent that cold night, rays of faint moonlight shining across Fenris’s desk. It was one of the many prizes he had collected in the raids this journey, and across its surface lie maps of the southlands. He should have been planning, studying the charts and deciding on their next stop, but the guest he had picked up along the way was far too distracting. He wasn’t quite sure what it was about her, but he had fallen like a lovesick puppy. It frustrated him, but he could not deny the feelings were real. His eyes wandered over to Miorjah, kneeling on a fine rug and staring into a mirror as she groomed herself. Her hair was like strands of the finest silk he had ever seen, perfectly white with a luminescent quality to it. It was as if the moon’s glow was outshined by her and her pale coloration. It took all of his will to not reach out and touch it, knowing well she was still timid to him. He did not want to scare her, so he watched. He watched her as she ran a toothed comb through it, the piece simple and inelegant in comparison to her. The stained bone it was made of wasn’t worthy of her. Perhaps if it had been crafted of the great dragon, but this was nothing more than a borrowed trinket. The white mare grimaced as the comb snagged on a small knot in her immensely long hair, closing her eyes tightly in pain and letting out a small noise. Fenris growled, even the sight of a small injury to her was unbearable. The noise startled her, thinking he was mad at her and giving him a fearful frown as she shrank slightly in his presence. Realizing, the towering wolf-king held a hand up to calm her as he rose, step after step walking towards her. Her eyes were wide with worry when he reached her, and she shut them tight as his massive paw outstretched in her direction. He snagged the comb away from her, frowning as he looked down at it, then to her. “You deserve better.” He said bluntly in his deep, baritone voice before stepping back and heading for the flap of their tent, exiting into a cold night air. There had to be something better in their treasure piles, the southlands were filled with people that collected pretty things, encrusted in jewels or plated with gold. He would find her something more familiar, or at least more suitable.

𝖂𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖞 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝕮𝖞𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑𝕬𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ❤

A dreamy scene setting the tone for our roleplays... Me and Fenris have a TON of stories you can find at the STAR and above tier on my patreon! https://www.patreon.com/miorjah

𝔇𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶 𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔰.

ᴵ ᵃᶜᵗᶤᵛᵉˡʸ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᶠ⁻ˡᶤˢᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᴿᵒˡᵉᵖˡᵃʸᶤᶰᵍ ʷᵉᵇˢᶤᵗᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐʸ ᵃʳᵗʷᵒʳᵏ ᵇᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᵘˢᵉᵈˑ

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