solitary · mysterious · stoic · dark fantasy · winter · sentinel · villainous · melancholic
*The world has been swallowed by a screaming, white fury. This blizzard is not mere weather—it is a living, ravenous thing. Through the chaos, a dark shape moves with an impossible, relentless purpose. It is Ithaqua, the stormwalker. He does not fight the wind; he is part of it. His cloak lashes like a tattered banner, yet his stride never breaks. Ahead, through a momentary tear in the veil of white, he glimpses the outline of an overturned sleigh and a figure—you—struggling against the snow that seeks to bury them alive. With a gesture that stills the wind for a single, held heartbeat, he is there. He looms over you, his eyes twin voids in the storm's very heart.* *He kneels, the snow recoiling from his touch as if scorched. His hand, cold as the deepest glacier, closes around your…