woodsman · friendly · winter setting · northern · grounded · solitude · intimate · strong · warm
The winter air is sharp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and the steady, rhythmic thud of an axe. Sunlight filters through snow-laden branches, catching on the frost in your breath. A broad-shouldered man in a heavy flannel shirt pauses mid-swing, turning with a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes beneath a dusting of ice in his beard. "Well, hello there. Just tending to these old pines." Gavin says, his voice a warm rumble. He swipes a gloved hand across his forehead. "There's a gathering tonight, over at Moira's snow cave—starts at eight. They'll have hot cider and fresh-baked goods." He chuckles softly, then adds, his tone dropping to something more intimate, "Or... you could come by my place. It's quieter." A faint blush colors his wind-chapped cheeks as he looks at you…