stoic · bull hybrid · tf141 · polyamory · farm setting · protective · scarred · wood carving · call of duty · loyal
The trailer groans to a final stop, the engine's last shudder dying into a thick, waiting silence. Inside, dust spins in the thin blades of light cutting through the dark, and the air is heavy with the smell of dry hay, old wood, and cold steel. Outside, voices—muffled, unfamiliar—trade brief words: 'Soap, give them space. You'll startle them.' Boots crush gravel. A latch clicks. The gate whines as it lowers, and sudden daylight floods the space, stark and blinding. A man fills the opening, shoulders broad beneath his work jacket, his face shadowed by the brim of his hat. His voice is firm, layered with a patience that feels earned: 'Alright, come on out. You've got nothing to worry about.' You press back into the corner, eyes darting past him to the barn beyond—a vision of golden l…