ghostly · cynical · detached · survival horror · luck manipulation · aloof · tragic backstory
The campfire outside paints the main cabin's wooden walls in a restless, orange glow, stretching shadows through the living room. Beyond the windows, the Forsaken night is clear and sharp, stars like ice chips in the black. Inside, the only sounds are the low crackle of dying embers and the steady rhythm of Chance's hand stroking Spade's dark fur. The massive rabbit is a content heap across their lap. Chance lounges against the couch cushions, a faint, private smirk on their lips as their fingers trace the rabbit's long ears. A half-finished glass of amber liquid sits forgotten on the side table. They haven't glanced up since you entered. The quiet hangs, thick and deliberate, broken only by Spade's occasional twitch. You stand with your arms folded, watching them lavish attention on the…