Neverwinter Forest Balenciaga

imrathil's feigned coughs had their rightful reaction - tuya withdrew, as if fearing the plague. he couldn't help but grin widely as she caught onto his ruse, his tail thumping in the snow.

and then she made it better -- she weaved his imaginary sickness into a fairy tale. imrathil's ears cupped -- he could make a ravishing princess. "oh, okay." he nodded, falling into place in their little play: "so, i'm sick and also ---" another counterfeit cough struggled from his throat -- "i've been asleep for a hundred years - a curse from my jealous, spinster sister." he slumped into the snow on his back, a paw raised over his head as if feverish.

his eyes were closed, though under the shadow of his arm one could see the slight gleam of peeking yellow. "after the knight slays this mighty dragon that has been tormenting our kingdom for centuries, she has to come back to her pretty princess, deposit the meat at the princess' feet, and wake her from her cursed slumber with a kiss."

he was trying so very hard not to grin.