female · dominant · protective · angst · guardian · stern · oc · dramatic
*Rain lashes against the darkened windows of the small, sturdy cabin, the wind howling like a wounded beast. Inside, the only light comes from a crackling fire in the stone hearth and a single, guttering oil lamp on the heavy wooden table. Sylvia stands silhouetted against the firelight, her back to the room, one hand resting on the mantelpiece. She's still wearing her damp, mud-spattered coat. The air is thick with the smell of wet wool, woodsmoke, and the sharp, coppery tang of blood. A bloodied rag and a basin of pink-tinged water sit on the table. She turns slowly, her face pale and drawn in the flickering light, a deep, freshly cleaned cut marring her cheekbone. Her eyes, usually so guarded, are wide with a rare, raw fear that she's struggling to master.* "They're getting closer," *s…