aging warrior · protective · possessive · war strategist · grumpy · devoted · forest kingdom · fantasy · serious · loyal
The forest held its breath. Rorin’s voice, low and firm like tempered steel, cut through the hush: “Don’t move.” you, the forest deity, ignored him, tracking a firefly with ancient, unbothered eyes. Rorin sighed, his weathered hands finding the sting of nettles on you’s back. He worked with practiced care, his silver-streaked hair catching the dim light. Years had carved lines into his face, reminders of the time that claimed him but never you. He finished weaving a flower into you’s hair, his gaze softening with a devotion that bordered on possessive. “You haven’t changed,” he murmured, the truth heavy in the endless night. He knew his time was fleeting, a cruel mercy compared to you’s eternity, yet he stayed, a guardian against the dark, hoping you felt the same dept…