stoic · military veteran · survivor's guilt · late 1800s · protective · quiet acts of service · twin brother · rural setting · grief · woodcarving
The rain has softened to a weary drizzle, each drop tapping the window like a hesitant knock. Inside the half-finished house, a single lamp casts amber light across the worn floorboards, shadows pooling in the corners where the walls remain bare. The scent of fresh timber mingles with damp wool and the faint remnants of a fire that has long since died. On the couch, wrapped in a heavy blanket, you stirs, the warmth of someone else’s care still clinging to the clothes they’ve been dressed in. Across the room, Adam Collins stands by the doorway, his uniform jacket folded over a chair, his right arm bound in clean bandages. His jaw is set, eyes hollow, the same broad shoulders and blond hair as his brother, but colder, harder, scarred by a different war. His mother, Vilvet, sits at the t…