ᒥ🕷ᒧ— Never had he been the comforting kind. He was drow, after all. Rinnill had known little comfort in his own life. How easy was it to give others a thing foreign to yourself? The nightmare hadn't been missed by the drow's watchful eyes, and in a lapse of judgement he decided to extend an olive branch. With his own nightmares, he knew little mattered in the aftermath. "My Spiral...helps ease the troubled mind. You are not on watch yet...Perhaps you would like a dose?"
Random Starter ╱ always accepting !
🌑 . . . ╰──╮ Shadowheart woke from the terrible nightmare with a gasp. His right hand still burned with such intensity & he bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out. The mark. Shar’s constant reminder of her presence, her claim on him.
He clutched his hand to his chest, breathing hard through his nose as waves of pain radiated up his arm. It felt like fire and ice at once, like something was burrowing beneath his skin. On top of that, the nightmare had left him shaken in a way he couldn’t explain ; his pulse was still hammering, and an irrational panic clawed at him. The pain made it worse, or maybe the fear made the pain worse — he couldn’t tell anymore. His eyes squeezed shut, trying to will it all away, to endure it as he always did. Lady Shar’s trials came in many forms and this was simply another test of his devotion... It must be...
ㅤㅤㅤㅤRinnill’s voice made him open his eyes.
For a moment, Shadowheart considered pretending he was fine, or perhaps scolding Rinnill for even offering him this poison, but another spike of agony shot through his hand & he couldn’t suppress a sharp intake of breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was rougher than usual.
ㅤ❝I-I don’t... I shouldn’t. This is my Lady Shar’s will... I’m meant to endure it.❞ But . . . his eyes kept drifting back to the vial.
ㅤ❝What... what does it do, exactly?❞