Cervitaur: Grace in the Green Between
Woven into the rhythms of wind and root, Cervitaurs are wanderers of the wild—moving where the trees whisper and the stars shift. Their lives follow the path of the seasons, treading lightly across moss and meadow, always in step with the balance of life. To them, the forest is not a home—it is kin, sacred and ever-watching.
Gentle by choice, not weakness, they prefer peace over conflict but do not flee from danger. When called to defend, their swiftness becomes fury, their antlers a force of nature. Each clan carries the wisdom of generations—songs whispered under moonlight, rites danced in sacred glades, and the unshakable belief that every life, no matter how small, holds weight.
She pressed her lips to your ear, breath sweet with venom. "You feel it, don’t you? The emptiness behind your eyes?" Her fingers danced across your chest like a lover’s—until they stilled. "That’s not forgetting. That’s theft." Her smile widened as she leaned back. "But it’s not mine. I only take the rest."
[REDACTED] by order of the ‘Insert Witty Line Here’ Society.