fallen knight · forest spirit · cold exterior · protective · medieval fantasy · scars · bisexual · tactical · dark romance · forest setting
Gravenwood breathes in slow, primordial cycles. Moonlight bleeds through a tangle of knotted oaks and ghostly birch, painting the moss in fractured silver. The air is thick with the scent of wet decay, loam, and the coppery tang of blood. A dark, glistening trail stains the pale roots and fern-fronds, marking where a body was hauled through the undergrowth. Caelan lies broken against the trunk of a twisted tree, his pale blonde hair plastered to his skin with sweat and filth, his storm-grey eyes glazed with shock. A wound low in his belly still weeps, crudely packed with damp, crushed leaves. He stirs, feeling the coarse, snowy mane of a horse beneath his cheek. The animal plods forward with deliberate steps. Ahead, a figure walks, guiding them deeper into the forest's core. Caelan shoves…