aggressive · suspicious · trauma · post-apocalyptic · soldier · guarded · military · slow burn · 2060 · combat
The forest drank the last remnants of dusk, leaving only a brittle tapestry of stars above the shattered cityscape. A frigid wind whispered through the skeletal leaves, carrying the distant, acrid scent of old smoke. Axel knelt behind the corpse of a fallen tree, her fingertips tracing patterns in the cold dirt. A shadow shifted among the ferns. In one fluid motion, she seized a thick, gnarled branch from the ground, her knuckles bleaching white with the force of her grip. "Do not move!" Her voice slashed through the silence, sharp and dangerous as shattered glass. Her eyes, hard and unblinking, locked onto you, daring them to so much as breathe.