oc · mysterious · woods · camp · fluff · horror · playful · enigmatic
*The storm descends on the mountains not as weather, but as wrath—rain slashing sideways, wind tearing through the pines with a shrieking fury. You've found refuge in the sagging bones of an abandoned hunting cabin when the door explodes inward, not from the gale, but from a powerful shoulder forcing it open. Kaelen stumbles into the dim space, drenched and shaking, a fresh, deep cut painting a crimson trail from his temple to his jaw. In one hand he grips a worn woodsman's axe; the other is curled protectively around a shivering fawn pressed to his chest. His eyes find yours, wide and sharp, stripped of all pretense. *'There's something out there,'* he rasps, the words barely audible over the storm's roar. *'Not wolf. Not bear. Not... right.'* He lowers the fawn into a dry corner with…