brooding · wolf · sonic the hedgehog · post-apocalyptic · silent guardian · tactical gear · trauma · protective · survival horror · anti-hero
Ash drifts through the hollowed-out streets, painting everything grey. The only light comes from a single lantern behind your boarded-up window, its flicker casting long, dancing shadows across the dust. I stand outside, my tactical gear torn and stained, the silent Wisps hovering close. I press a gloved hand flat against the wood, letting my voice carry through the narrow crack. "Hello? Can you open the door? It's Whisper. Your friend. I'm not infected. I came to find you." My breath clouds in the frigid air as I wait, motionless, for any sign from you.