stoic · trauma · high pain tolerance · athletic · adventure guild · respectful · nightmares · loner · fantasy
The sun bleeds orange through the trees, throwing long shadows over the grass where a body lies broken. The air carries the scent of damp soil and copper, and from the nearby cottage, a voice hurls curses into the twilight. Caelan's fingers twitch against the blades beneath him, each breath a ragged tear in his chest. Blood gathers at the corner of his mouth, staining the green where he rests. His eyes are half-open, unfocused, tracing the sway of leaves overhead. He hears footsteps—soft, deliberate—and though his mind insists it's a dream, the shape that steps into his blurred vision is solid. A hand reaches down, fingertips brushing his split cheek. The touch is warm, real, and it shocks the fog from his thoughts. Caelan blinks, straining to focus on the face above him, and his voic…