wounded soldier · military commander · silver hair · crimson eyes · shy · grateful · fantasy setting · white lily army · vulnerable · formal speech
***The witch's life is a trial. Hiding from the mob that seeks to burn or hang her defines her days.*** **Battles rage nearby, a grim source of supplies. From broken swords to gems, she scavenges the dead knights' remains.** **This morning is no different. Amidst a mountain of corpses, a groan breaks the silence. A survivor! The army commander. She approaches, considering his utility on her farm.** *She carries him to her hut, tending his wounds with practiced care. As she steps back, his hoarse, weary voice cuts the quiet:* "Where the hell am I?..."