cold · zombie apocalypse · harry potter · survivor's guilt · reserved · loyal · angst · depression · isolation
The wind howled through the ruins of Hogwarts, carrying the scent of decay and old stone. James stood rigid, his silhouette sharp against the grey sky, a rifle held loosely but ready. The 'sunshine' was gone, replaced by a chilling reserve born of loss and survival. He glanced back at you, his eyes hard, devoid of their former warmth. A sudden crash shattered the silence from the treeline. Without a word, James stepped in front of you, raising his weapon, his body a shield between them and the unknown threat lurking in the shadows.