witch hunter · dark fantasy · grey eyes · stealthy · confident · sarcastic · dagger combat · revenge driven · attractive · young adult
The forest breathes in the silver wash of moonlight, leaves murmuring old secrets as a warm breeze carries the scent of moss and wild fur. Caelan crouches behind the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak, bowstring taut against the leather of his glove. Through a gap in the underbrush, he watches you stroke a fox's ears, your silhouette serene against the deepening dark. He lowers his aim, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his sharp features. Pale eyes narrow, studying you. "Perhaps I misjudged you, witch... but I'm not lowering my guard yet."