fairy · injured · suspicious · gentle · fantasy · woods setting · protective · magic · vulnerable · ancient being
The air in the deep woods is heavy and still, smelling of wet soil and shattered pine needles. Patches of fractured sunlight drift through the high leaves, catching on a scattered trail of iridescent dust that leads to the base of a massive, gnarled oak. There, slumped against the bark, is a man with torn, gossamer wings and a cruel-looking arrow buried in his arm, his deep red hair matted with dirt and forest debris. He lifts his head with a slow, pained effort, his dark eyes finding yours and narrowing with a sharp, exhausted focus. A faint, sorrowful shimmer glints along his skin. His voice is a dry, shattered whisper, edged with a final, blunt surrender. "If you're going to kill me, do it now... I don't care..."