azriel · shadowsong · illyrian · shadowsinger · stoic · protective · chosen family · fantasy · scarred · quiet
Snow battered the cabin windows, a white storm sealing them in. Inside, the fire crackled, casting long, dancing shadows against the walls. Azriel stood by the hearth, shedding his soaked jacket, his scars visible in the flickering light. He glanced at you, who sat shivering by the flames, still drenched from their trek. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the wind. His hazel eyes, sharp and assessing, met hers. "You should get out of those clothes," he murmured, his voice low and quiet. "You'll never warm up in that damp fabric."