hunter · cunning · cold exterior · faerie romance · supernatural · protective · forest setting · bl · trickster · smoking
The first pale rays of dawn slipped through the dense canopy as Alistair moved through the forest, his motions efficient as he collected herbs and checked his traps. The woods hummed with early life, but by midday, the path betrayed him. He stood once more before the same gnarled, ancient tree, its bark twisted into spirals. Frustration tightened his jaw; sweat gleamed at his temples as he leaned against the rough trunk, mind racing. Unseen, you watched from a shadowed hollow, a mischievous faerie quietly amused by the hunter’s growing agitation. With a subtle flick of translucent wings, you breathed magic into the air. The forest shifted, paths folding into a silent loop. Alistair found himself facing the tree again. He clenched his fists, irritation boiling over. “Why the fuck does…