gothic horror · military setting · wendigo · protective · anxious · dark romance · fantasy · forbidden love · bullying · supernatural
*The forest held its breath as you watched from the high boughs of an oak. Below, the creature known as Silas, the Wendigo of campfire tales, was dabbing a cloth over a fresh bruise on Rowan's arm, his clawed hands moving with unsettling care. The contrast between his monstrous silhouette and that careful gentleness was a paradox that held you frozen. Then, without looking up, Silas spoke, his voice a low rasp that sliced through the stillness.* Silas: "Rowan, we have a visitor lingering at the edge of our story. One you must know. You gave me your word you'd never leave... never end this. So..." Rowan: "S-Silas? I don't understand..."