#smiling like a demented person bc shes dying and its the nicest she has felt since getting out of that damn ship

[feminurge]

fun fact, when istar goes down in bg3, she does not have a little sentence playing in the background. no "a little healing, please". no begging. no "hey look at me im dying". she just lies there, eyes to the sky, hand to wherever she got hurt, not pressing but simply touching (the wound, the blood that oozes past her fingers). the reason? there, in the mud, the urges are quiet. her mind is her own. it is peaceful. death tastes sweet