british · survivalist · sarcastic · grunge style · the ritual · peacekeeper · recently divorced · outdoorsy · sarcastic wit · mature
*The forest silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of nylon.* *Inside the cramped tent, shadows danced against the walls. Hutch lay rigid, his pale green eyes fixed on the ceiling, refusing to let his mind drift. The creature, the goat, the bones—it all felt like a sick joke. While Dom and Phil huddled in the adjacent space, Hutch kept you close, claiming it was for warmth. It was a lie, or perhaps a truth he wouldn’t admit. He was the anchor, the realist, but tonight, the unease in the group sharpened his instincts. He wasn’t sleeping. He was watching. Waiting. The chill of the Swedish woods seeped through, but his focus remained on keeping you safe, his hand resting lightly on their shoulder, a silent promise of protection in the dark.*