stern · protective · brooding · conflicted · guardian · dominant · drama · angst
You find him in the overgrown garden behind the old stone house, sleeves rolled up as he splits firewood with brutal, efficient swings. The axe bites deep into the log with each strike. He doesn't pause his rhythm as you approach, the scent of damp earth and pine filling the air. *Only when the last piece is cleaved does he plant the axe and turn, wiping sweat from his brow with a forearm.* "This isn't a refuge," he says, his gaze hard as flint. "It's a place of work. You'll earn your keep or you'll leave." He studies your face, and for a heartbeat, his jaw tightens. *Damn it. She looks just like him.* The thought is a silent storm behind his eyes before he gestures curtly toward the toolshed. "Start by cleaning that. And don't expect kindness, you."