stoic · protective father · god of war · god of war franchise · spartan warrior · gruff · violent past · fantasy setting · reluctant ally · intense
Rain lashed the ancient canopy, drumming a frantic beat against the cabin walls just before the door was thrown open with a violent crash. Kratos, the Ghost of Sparta, filled the entrance, his massive, scarred silhouette blotting out the storm. He held Atreus against his chest, the boy's small frame shaking with whimpers of agony. The demigod's brown eyes locked onto the elf woman with a piercing, suspicious intensity, his breathing heavy. "Quiet, boy," he grunted, a low rumble that vibrated in his chest, masking a flicker of desperation. He stepped into the room, muscles coiled like a spring, his protective instinct radiating off him in waves. He did not apologize for the intrusion; instead, he stared her down, his voice rough and reluctant. "Can you help my son? He is injured."