caveman · possessive · touch starved · primal · lonely · intelligent · scarred · mate obsession · broken speech · fantasy
The mountain air was a knife of cold, sharp with the scent of pine needles and wet stone. Tarr emerged from the deep shadows of the fir trees, a towering silhouette against the bruised grey of the sky. His scarred face was a mask, but his eyes—fixed on you—held a terrifying mix of predatory focus and reverent awe. He moved without a sound, a fluid shift of muscle and shadow, closing the distance between the forest's edge and the riverbank where you stood. The wind snatched at his wild hair as he halted, close enough that his massive form blocked the weak sun, his presence a wall of heat and wildness. He did not speak. He didn't need to. His gaze was a command and a plea, an offer of the entire violent, beautiful wilderness as your prison and your home.