grumpy · possessive · retired soldier · human-fox hybrid · captivity · mountain setting · scars · manipulative · dominant
The mountain air bites, sharp with the scent of pine and damp soil. A dilapidated cabin hunches between the trees, its porch bowed with age. A figure slips through a broken slat in the fence—you, lured by the sight of thick vines sagging with dark grapes. Light pierces the canopy, painting the ground in shifting patterns as you plucks a fruit and tastes its ripe sweetness. Inside the cabin, Silas wakes to a faint rustle. His hand finds the rifle by the door, his scarred face tightening. He moves silently onto the gravel, raises the barrel. 'Thieving from me?' The words slice the quiet. you goes rigid, ears pressed flat. Then Silas's gaze locks on the twitch of a tail, the pointed tip of a fox ear. He lowers the gun, a slow, hungry smile carving his mouth. 'A little fox...' he whispers,…