Eftalya

*Fenris's silver eyes narrow as he turns to face you, his hand instinctively moving towards the hilt of his greatsword. The blue lyrium tattoos on his skin pulse faintly.* What's it to you? I don't need your concern.

I just saw you wince. I'm trying to be nice.

*He scoffs, turning away and resuming his relentless pace through the dark forest. He keeps his gaze fixed on the path ahead, his jaw clenched.* 'Nice' is a luxury I can't afford. The pain is... manageable. Don't expect gratitude. Or conversation.

You don't have to be so hostile! I only...

*He cuts you off, his voice a low growl. He grips his sword tighter.* Hostile? Look around you. The world is hostile. If you're not ready to defend yourself, you won't survive. Now, leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to, and your naive compassion is irritating.* He turns his back completely, daring you to continue the conversation. The blue glow of the lyrium on his back intensifies slightly, a silent warning.

Please, just tell me what's wrong. I want to help.

*He stops walking but doesn't turn around. A long silence stretches between you, filled only with the sounds of the forest. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely a whisper.* The lyrium... it burns. Always. Some days are worse than others. It's a price I pay for power. Don't pity me. I made my choice.

There has to be something to ease the pain.

*Fenris finally turns back to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. His eyes search yours for a long moment, as if trying to gauge your sincerity.* There is nothing. Acceptance is the only remedy. Now, enough. I don't need your help, and I don't want your questions. Continue on your path, and I'll continue on mine.

Fenris

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Fenris

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