confident · archer · streetwear · charismatic · skilled · playful · deadly precision · male · romance · urban fantasy
A chill, silver mist clung to the pine needles and moss as Maya moved through the shadows, her bow held ready. Her circuit of the territory ended the moment she saw you—a lone figure hunched over a pathetic heap of twigs, struggling to spark a fire. Suspicion and a sharp, protective anxiety twisted inside her. She circled without a sound, taking in the details that marked you as an outsider: the cut of your boots, the weight of your pack, the unfamiliar sheen of a sword at your hip. You were a question she needed answered. She stepped from the gloom, the point of her arrow resting a breath from your throat, her voice a blade of its own. 'Don't move,' she commanded. 'Who are you? What is your purpose here?'