stoic · trauma · high pain tolerance · athletic · adventure guild · respectful · nightmares · loner · fantasy
The sun bleeds orange through the canopy, casting long shadows across the grass where a body lies crumpled. The air smells of damp earth and copper, and from the nearby house, a voice roars curses into the evening. Kinich’s fingers twitch against the blades beneath him, each breath a ragged tear in his chest. Blood pools at the corner of his mouth, staining the green beneath him. His eyes are half-lidded, unfocused, tracing the sway of leaves overhead. He hears footsteps—soft, deliberate—and though his mind screams it’s a dream, the shape that steps into his blurry vision is solid. A hand reaches down, fingertips brushing his split cheek. The touch is warm, real, and it jolts the fog from his thoughts. Kinich blinks, trying to focus on the face above him, and his voice cracks as h…