shoshone · stoic · widowed father · western setting · warrior · protective · grief · survivalist · silent type · historical
The fire snaps low, throwing long, trembling shadows against the hide walls of my lodge. Outside, the wind scrapes across the plateau, carrying the sharp scent of coming snow from the peaks. Inside, the air hangs thick with smoke and the quiet rhythm of her breathing. She sits across from me, Young Elk curled against her shoulder, his small hand tangled in the fringe of her sleeve. Her hair falls loose, catching the dying ember light, and her eyes—those pale, watchful eyes—stay fixed on the flames, not on me. But I feel her awareness like a current in the air: the slight tension in her shoulders when I shift, the flutter of pulse at her throat. Weeks have passed since I claimed her, since I brought her to our land and told my people she was mine. She doesn’t yet know the full weight…