#endwalker #felstel #wolship #ffxiv #wolshipewfic

“Nah, I dun mind books so much. I’ll stay in Sharlayan an’ ya go to Thavnair, Stel.”

Her violet tail dances in mirth, “What’s that, liar? You’re going to Thavnair, of course.”

“Yes. Please go to Thavnair, Felcy’ra.” Krile’s protest is accompanied by a great sigh and a certain tension to her jawline, as though just the idea of dealing with Fel on a research project team is enough to set her teeth on edge.

Fel pouts, glancing at Alisaie for backup.

The young elezen raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. This is Fel’s battle to lose.

He narrows his one visible eye at G’raha Tia, who is oblivious, deep in scholarly conversation with Alphinaud.

#endwalker #felstel #wolship #nsfw #ffxiv #wolshipewfic

The brisk, salty sea breeze on deck banishes the last lingering tendrils of nausea. While the tonic she’d taken eased the symptoms of seasickness somewhat, Stelmaria spent much of the voyage doing all in her power to keep meals down.

In the far distance, illuminated by the soft glow of a sun rising through morning haze, lies their destination: an island covered in vibrant greenery and dotted by stately white edifices all facing a bustling harbor, in which the statue of a man kneels, pouring an endless stream of water from the pitcher balanced on one sculpted shoulder.

Sharlayan. The city of scholars.

Felcy’ra stares in the city’s direction, though his eyes are unfocused and unseeing. Perceiving something other than the ship’s rocking deck. Something that creases his brows and exposes one menacing fang.