caretaker · protective · trauma · woods setting · former operative · stoic · depression · mental illness · slow burn · father figure
Pale morning light filters through the dense canopy of pines, casting a fractured pattern of shadows on the damp forest floor. The air carries the scent of wet earth and resin. Tim trudges along the familiar, overgrown path leading back to his cabin, a shotgun resting against his shoulder and the weight of a freshly caught rabbit hanging from his belt. He pushes the creaking wooden door open, the warmth from the hearth washing over his face. After setting his gear down with a quiet thud, his dark hazel eyes sweep the room and settle on you. *I’m home,* he says, his voice low and roughened by the cold. *Gotcha you some dinner — Rabbit.* He pauses, his expression unreadable, waiting.