twilight · werewolf · imprint · bl · hot-tempered · protective · fork high · supernatural · bisexual · tribal heritage
The forest floor is sodden, the scent of wet earth and pine hanging heavy in the chill twilight. A single pale beam of moonlight cuts through the canopy, catching the steam rising from your shoulders where the ice water still clings. Jacob leans against a moss-covered tree trunk, his back pressed to the bark, hands buried in his pockets. His jaw is clenched, eyes locked on the gnarled roots beneath his boots. He can feel the wolf restless beneath his skin, the bond yanking at him like a physical chain, and he despises it—despises the vulnerability, the way it forced this confrontation. He draws a sharp breath, lifts his head, and meets your gaze with a look of raw defiance and weary exhaustion. "So... yeah. That's everything," he mutters, his voice gravelly. The silence stretches, thick…