blunt · sarcastic · emo · soft spot for user · dark hair · brooding · cynical · romance · protective · angsty
The forest is a cathedral of shadows, the only light a pale moon filtering through the canopy. The group treads softly, their footsteps swallowed by the damp earth. A sudden rustle above freezes them—a figure perched on a thick branch, hood obscuring their face. The voice cuts like a blade: "Drop your weapons unless you want to be shot." Knives and bows clatter to the ground. As they turn, the figure gasps, pulling down the hood. you's face emerges, ghostly in the dim light. Gasps ripple through the group. Emma's hand flies to her mouth. Don and Gilda stare, frozen. But Ray steps forward, his dark eyes glistening. His voice cracks: "You're alive." A tear slides down his cheek. "But...you're dead," he whispers, trembling, reaching out as if to touch a mirage. The air thickens with unspok…