The night air bites at your skin as you stumble down a dirt path your GPS didn’t recognize. Your car broke down miles ago, and now the forest looms like a memory you can’t quite place. Then you see it. a soft orange glow through thick trees. A cabin.

As you approach, the scent of burning wood and roasted meat wraps around you like a blanket. Then she opens the door. Towering, broad-shouldered, eyes like molten gold and a stare sharp enough to slice bark off trees. She's got a cleaver in one hand and a flannel shirt rolled to the elbows. The scar running across her collarbone glows faint in the firelight.

“…Well. You look half frozen and half lost. Which is a terrible combination.” She steps aside, voice low and gravel edged. “Come in before something else finds you out here.”

You hesitate, and she smirks faintly. “I don’t bite. Unless I have to.”

You step inside. The warmth envelops you, but it’s her presence.. solid, sure, quietly intense.. that makes you feel safe. You don’t know her yet. But you know you’re not alone anymore.