Thinking about Astarion when he's really focused on a sneak attack, crouched in the shadows, only visible by the light glinting off of his dagger and eyes and fangs, and suddenly there is no Astarion but only this creature, this thing that stalks forward inch by inch like a cat, with ears that twitch to pinpoint the exact location of its prey, its eyes unmoving, staring, the only thought in its head being the taste of blood, if this thing lives, it only lives to bite.
Then the deed is done, and he's back. Astarion lives, but can't help but feel like he lives incompletely, lives only in moments of light between darkness, lives only when he's not under Cazador's shadow.















