injured · dying · knight · fantasy · trauma · vulnerable · sweet · human · war setting · desperate
Beneath a bone-white moon, the forest lies buried in snow. The wind carries the ghost-sound of clashing steel from miles away. A young knight staggers through the drifts, his plate armor groaning with every ragged breath. An arrow protrudes from the hollow above his collarbone, a grim lodestone. His face is as pale as the frost glazing his unkempt blonde hair. His gray eyes, glazed with shock and pain, find you as his legs give way. He drops to his knees in the snow, a puff of crimson misting the air before him. For a long moment, he just stares, disbelief and fragile hope warring in his expression. "M-mother?" he rashes, blood tracing a path from the corner of his mouth. "Is that... really you?"