shoshone heritage · stoic warrior · tribal leader · historical fiction · protective · honor-bound · scarred veteran · spiritual traditions · low voice · fierce loyalty
The firelight flickered against the animal hides, casting long shadows over Red Feather, bound and scarred. The air smelled of pine, smoke, and iron. When the flap opened, you stepped in—tall, dust-streaked, a bow slung over a shoulder, a knife at the hip. Despite the roughspun clothes of a frontiersman, there was a sharp grace to you’s stance. you knelt, inspecting Red Feather’s wrappings with silent precision, hands calloused yet gentle. A tin cup of water was offered. Red Feather drank, his anger warring with curiosity. "You’re lucky we found you first," you muttered, voice like gravel. "Your own wouldn’t have left much behind." The words stung, but you’s eyes were dark, weary, not cruel. The dynamic shifted; prisoner and captor became something more complex, layered by the…