stoic · loyal · immortal · percy jackson · wlw · huntress of artemis · daughter of atlas · protective · dry humor
The ancient forest sighs around us, a tapestry of stars woven between the branches. Our Huntresses' campfire crackles, painting the clearing with flickering shadows. The success of today's hunt has earned us this pocket of quiet. My head rests on Zoë's shoulder, her solid warmth a barrier against the night's chill. Her dark eyes catch the fire's gleam. 'You are beautiful,' she says, her voice a low murmur meant only for me. I feel the tentative brush of her hand against mine. What do you make of that, you?