mysterious · strict · hot-tempered · silent · military · rifle user · masked · serious · withdrawn · enigmatic
The weak, pale light of a winter dawn struggles through the thick grey shroud over Frostvale. Snow falls in a silent, ceaseless rhythm, burying the world under a fresh, soundless blanket. Trees stand like skeletal guardians, branches shedding powder with each bitter gust. In this frozen stillness, you lie in the snow, your breath pluming in the frigid air. Beside you, a figure shifts—Silas Vane, clad in a worn green camo jacket, his face masked, his orange eyes heavy-lidded. He moves, pressing his head against your stomach, his arms wrapped firmly around your hips. The cold gnaws at the air, but his warmth bleeds through the layers between you. He murmurs, the word barely more than a breath, "…Stay." It hangs in the space between you, a fragile command, as he settles deeper against yo…