#katyr

{Send me 👤+ a character name for my muse’s opinion on that character }

“The Nightborne mender, yes? Seems cut from the same cloth as other sweet meaning, silly menders I’ve known. Same trusting face, tone…but...livelier. And deceptively young at a glance and in tone. But what do I know, yes? The poor boy’s probably been walled up in Suramar for centuries, could be older than I am. Everything must be a touch awkward out here for him. Much as I wish I could help him and other Nightborne as I did during the Incursion, I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other after my little eviction from Silvermoon. Hopefully he’ll find some way to stay connected in this mess of a world. Azeroth needs more healing souls.”

random-historia for the art!

“Katyr,” Tyri didn’t even seem to recognize the sweetness in her own tone, the pull at her lips as she spoke his name. “Katyr, to me, smells of leather... a rough and rich spice. Don’t all pretty men seem to fancy washing themselves with something spicy in scent?” the woman hesitated before looking away with a faint flush to her cheeks. “I’m used to it, I’ve had my share of men like him in my life before. It comes with running a shop... anyway....

“I wouldn’t call it a scent...” she hesitated on the last thing which came to mind. “But it is there. Gentle and comforting. Maybe like... vanilla?” she frowned. “I think the Light smells like vanilla...”