• Any/All (Genderfluid)

🍁Furry🍁

Genderfluid || LGBTTQQIAAP+ Ally || Bi/Pan || Poly || Feminist || PLURAL AF || Actually Creetur Shaped ΘΔ& || Table-top and gaming nerd || 3D Enviro/Asset Modeler and Surfacing Artist || Frequent Writer and Lover of Prose Poetry || May be Skunk Brained || BEWARE my content can be NSFW. 18+ 🔞 || Twitter Migrant

RIP Dogbomb
1963 - 2019


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Making-Up-Adventurers
@Making-Up-Adventurers

Berserker who doesn't remember what happened last night or how that fire got started.


melinoe
@melinoe

Kera sinks low into the forest floor. It feels gentle, like when the retinue still guested in the palace apartments. The morning sun is the same, and settles on a runestone table with intricate and orderly implements, overseen by a cabinet suffused within an oaken wall and bursting with jarred herbs, magical and mundane.

Kera thinks Bella would like this place, and keeps dreaming of her. She does not dwell on how these things do not belong, in their living nightmare.

The retinue's Elfish Healer, with gaudy-red ribbons and sour chokeberries in her hair, hiding cheeks that blush in the fell air. Her belt, blessed of oft-needed potions and holy tinctures, that keeps a white dress Kera oft-longs to slip herself under.

That is a different dream though, and one she daren’t share.

It isn’t safe — not here nor with her, Kera who does not belong wholly to herself. The Barbarian who took upon the bloody-handed curse so she might save the world.

She reaches out to wake to their quest, instead brushing against something soft and generous. She cups and squeezes and it squeals and elbows her in the face, sending her tumbling from the suddenly real bed to the actual wooden floor.

Kera is not dreaming.

She rises sharply and grasps something iron in her hand.