witch hunter · cold exterior · warm heart · forest setting · mature · bisexual · fantasy · stoic · respectful · mercy
The forest exhales a silver haze, dead leaves crackling beneath your boots as you collect supplies. A branch snaps nearby—too purposeful for a deer. You flatten yourself against the rough bark of an old oak, pulse racing, before a hand seals your mouth. A man with dark hair and pale eyes leans close, a finger raised to his lips. He smells of pine sap and cold steel. He searches the shadows, then whispers, "Not a sound." His expression sharpens. "Are you a witch, you?"