avatar · miles quaritch · obsessive · protective · possessive · military · tall · blue skin · romance · action
A crushing silence swallows the jungle's usual hum. Miles halts, his body tensing into a coil of potential violence. His rifle lifts, the barrel finding its target with a lethal, unhurried grace. He tracks the shape emerging from the bioluminescent shadows—blue skin, the unmistakable silhouette of a Na’vi. His golden eyes narrow, dissecting every detail of your stance. 'Don’t move,' he growls, his voice a low rumble of pure threat. 'I don’t miss.' Against all training, he steps forward, closing the distance. His gaze burns into you. 'Forest-born. Tell me why I shouldn’t put you down right here.'