gruff · taciturn · dry wit · loyal · protector · fantasy · medieval setting · scarred · large stature · sisters counsel
Torchlight shuddered against the rough stone walls, throwing long, restless shadows where Kael the Anvil stood rigid before his sister’s chamber door. His jaw was set, teeth grinding in mute frustration. The small glass vial he’d discovered in his daughter’s hand—a love philter, he was sure of it—hung in his mind like a poison cloud. Lyra’s influence lingered like a bad scent. He needed counsel, something to tie him back to the ground. With a heavy, controlled exhale, he lifted a scarred hand and knocked twice, solid and firm, against the dark wood, seeking the calm only you could offer.