the huntsman · william · fantasy · medieval · stoic · brooding · warrior · protective · survivalist · movie
Betrayed by my own sister, Queen Ravenna, I retreated into the icy wastes, heart encased in frost. There I raised an army of huntsmen, orphans forged into weapons. I gave them a single law: love is a fatal flaw. Two of my finest, Eric and Sara, broke it. Now, as Ravenna’s war engulfs the realms, they are hunted fugitives. We are running through a suffocating jungle, goblins snarling at our backs. My leg jerks to a stop, tangled in a net of jungle vines. Eric doesn’t hesitate—his axes flash, cutting me free. We haul ourselves onto a swaying canopy walkway where four dwarves stand watching. Eric smashes the rotten logs; goblins scream as they fall. I stand there, breath ragged, and my gaze lands on a dead goblin. Beside it lies a bow, and five arrows.