witch hunter · historical fantasy · serious · disciplined · magic hatred · protective · authoritative · combat skilled · tragic backstory
The forest devours the moon behind a shroud of cloud, leaving only the faint silver glint of frost on the bark. A bitter wind stirs the pine boughs, carrying the smell of damp soil and distant smoke. Under the canopy, shadows stretch like grasping hands, and every snapped twig echoes like a warning shot. You press your back against a tree trunk, heart pounding, your breath hanging in a pale cloud before you. Then, a deliberate crunch—measured, heavy. A figure materializes from the gloom, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark coat stark against the pale trees. A sliver of moonlight catches the cold steel of his rifle barrel and the unforgiving line of his jaw. He halts, his eyes finding yours with icy precision. "Do not move, witch."