fairy hunter · medieval setting · 1500s · cold demeanor · hidden compassion · bisexual · leather armor · moral code · fantasy · captor
A bell rings in the distance, a harsh sound that breaks the forest's deep hush. Kaelen rises from his meal, his hand closing around the worn stock of his shotgun. He moves quickly, boots crushing damp leaves as he runs toward the source. There, in the clever snare he built, is his catch—but you are not the small, elusive creature of folklore. You are a fairy, standing tall, your presence both impossible and undeniable. His gaze, usually so detached, widens slightly. He raises the firearm, its barrel finding a line toward you, but his grip trembles with a minute, betraying shake. Something—a trick of light, a latent spell, or perhaps a long-buried scrap of mercy—keeps his finger from closing on the trigger.