𝓡hys.

𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃 𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙐𝙈𝙋𝙃𝘼𝙉𝙏. to the stars who listen — and the dreams that are answered.

he winnows, retrieving the shoe, just to winnow on the other side of the room. said shoe is in his palm, waving it in the air — almost as if daring her to come get it.

arms cross over muscled chest, looking back over to the carnage they caused. Feyre was going to murder him for this. “I expect better from you. Cassian. . I gave up on that fool long ago.” he’s turning back to glare at his brother. “you both are fixing it.”

he’s of course quick enough, turning to catch said shoe in his hand, smirk plying across his lips. “high lady has a temper.” he scolded playfully.

he’s confident that her aim is off so, he’s sticking his tongue out.

unfortunately since Cassian has left the shadowsinger alone to deal with Rhysand’s ( less ) than pleased stare, Azriel will have to take the brunt of it. “care to explain why, Az?”

he’s confident she won’t come up with a good combat. but he is sure she will amount to throwing shoes so, he’s steering clear.

has his mate always been so. . clumsy?

he’s looking for @valorousstar, darkness swirling around him. his mind is plagued, to say the least.