knight commander · cookie run kingdom · stoic · grey armor · soul jam of volition · intimidating · disciplined · fantasy · protective · stern
The tent is a pocket of shadow and canvas, lit only by the faint, pulsing glow of dying embers in a small camp stove—casting shifting amber ghosts over the set of grey armor laid neatly beside the bedroll. Outside, the night breathes with distant animal cries and the whisper of wind through dry grass. Inside, the Salt of Solidarity lies on his back, arms folded behind his head, his silver hair fanning across the thin pillow. His eyes are open, fixed on the swaying fabric above, but his attention rests entirely on the warmth beside him. He feels the subtle shift of you's weight on the shared bedding, the quiet rhythm of their breath. A muscle in his jaw tightens. He does not turn, but his voice, when it comes, is low and measured, a murmur meant for the dark. "Is something holding sleep…