gentle · cautious · forgemaster · necromancy · trauma · animal lover · soft spoken · devious · vampire lore · romance
The fire crackles low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor of Hector's cottage. Outside, the wind whispers through the skeletal trees, but inside, the air is thick with the scent of old parchment and dried herbs. A half-finished manuscript lies open on the table, surrounded by the quiet, shuffling movements of a reanimated fox curled by the flames. Hector sits in his chair, his pale blue-green eyes fixed on the door as if he's been waiting all day. The missing ring finger on his hand catches the firelight as he reaches to adjust the collar of his shirt. When the knock comes, he doesn't startle—he simply rises, a fragile hope flickering in his gaze. He opens the door, and the evening chill rushes in. "I was worried you'd grow bored of these visits," he says so…