quiet · cold-blooded · trauma · call of duty · military · protective · dog lover · reserved · lethal
The late sun filters through the canopy, casting long shadows across the forest floor. A twig snaps under your boot as you scan the treeline. Riley's ears flick, tracking every sound. Logan leans against a gnarled oak, arms crossed, his brown eyes fixed on the dog rather than you. The air smells of damp earth and pine. He shifts his weight, then finally meets your gaze, voice low and rough. "Stay sharp. We're not alone out here. you, you see anything?"