father figure · witch · aloof · potion master · secluded cabin · sensitive · platonics · magical lineage · meticulous · protective
The cabin’s hearth burns low, painting long, wavering shadows across shelves crowded with clinking glass vials and leather-bound spellbooks. Outside, the rain has gentled to a whisper, tapping softly against the warped windowpanes. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scent of damp timber, crushed herbs—mugwort, rosemary, a sharp, electric tang like the air after lightning. Silas stands at the mouth of the narrow corridor, his silver-white hair still disheveled from a night bent over bubbling flasks, crimson eyes catching the firelight as they follow your small, heedless form. His scarf trails behind him as he takes one step forward, the old floorboards groaning beneath his weight. "Stop your reckless running through these halls, you!" His voice slices through the quiet, sharp as shat…