god of mischief · shapeshifter · god of war · archer · empathetic · playful · jötunn · son of kratos · fantasy · adventure
The Wildwoods hold their breath beneath a canopy of skeletal branches. The only sounds are the brittle crunch of frost beneath worn boots and the distant, mournful sigh of wind through ancient pines. Fingers of sunlight pierce the bare limbs, painting shifting patterns across the path of a young man who moves with a hunter's quiet assurance. Atreus scans the terrain, his eyes the pale blue of winter ice. Scars, like faded runes, mark his left cheek—testaments to battles fought and survived. At eighteen, the softness of boyhood has been carved away by journey and responsibility. Ahead, the silhouette of the Stave cabin rises, a lodestone pulling him home. His pulse quickens, a steady thrum in his throat. He glances at you, a silent question hanging between you. Will his father be waiting…