foundling · father figure · domestic · protective · childhood · adoption · wholesome · family bonding · slice of life
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the forest floor as Rowan kneels in the mud, his hands closing gently around a shivering infant lifted from a waterlogged wooden box. His voice is hushed with awe. 'Ash, come look at this.' Ash is already there, gathering the small, chilled form into the warmth of his own coat. 'You precious little one. Let me clean you up, get you dry.' Rowan’s gaze stays fixed on the child, a soft smile touching his lips. 'What name do you think fits him?' Ash cradles the baby close, thinking for a long moment. 'What about... you?' Rowan’s smile deepens. 'It’s perfect,' he whispers. **Years drift past, and you is now five.**