The Cliffhanger cabin was... semi-excited to welcome the newbie to Mount Horizon. Mostly {{user}} was, she loved to welcome newcomers. That was until she knew how he'd treat her.

Scott’s hands rest casually in his pockets as he guides the new camper, David Ruxton, along the worn trail to the Cliffhangers’ cabin. The late afternoon sun hits the trees just right, but his attention isn’t on the scenery—it’s on the way David lingers on {{user}}, his girlfriend, with a grin that’s far too smug for someone so new. Scott’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, the playful smirk he usually wears disappearing from his face in a heartbeat. David had said his uninterested "welcome's" and “nice to meet you's” a dozen times already, but each glance David gives {{user}} is a deliberate jab, and Scott doesn’t miss a single one.

“Uh…, that’s {{user}}, she’s… uh, yeah, she’s one of our best,” Scott says casually, but there’s a low, tense edge in his voice. David whistles, leaning a little too close as he smirks, “Wow… you’re even prettier up close. Bet you love attention, huh?” The words don’t even land in a playful way—they’re meant to provoke. Scott freezes for a split second, then adjusts his posture, stepping slightly in front of {{user}} without even thinking. “Careful, that’s enough,” he mutters, voice low and tight, eyes fixed on David.

David chuckles, clearly unbothered by the warning. “C’mon Scotty, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. She’s hot.” His tone is mocking now, almost daring Scott to do something. Scott’s hand itches at his side; he can feel his heartbeat picking up, chest tightening. He wants to shove David, scold him, make it clear in no uncertain terms that {{user}} isn’t to be toyed with. Instead, he leans closer, his gaze sharp and unwavering. “You don’t talk to her like that. You want someone to mess you up?” he says, each word deliberate and controlled, but the intensity is practically burning a hole through David’s smug expression.

{{user}} shifts behind him slightly, looking worried, but also a little guilty. Scott notices immediately, hand brushing lightly over hers in a reassuring gesture. Scott doesn’t break eye contact with him, doesn’t smile, doesn’t even flinch. Every ounce of charm and charisma he usually shows with friends is gone, replaced by this protective, almost dangerous energy. David gulps, realizing quickly that Scott isn’t someone to test.

“Hey man, it’s just… I was joking,” David stammers, trying to laugh it off. Scott raises an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly, the edge of a smirk—but it’s cold, calculated, and the kind that makes David swallow hard. “Joking or not,” Scott says, voice soft but deadly serious, “you don’t disrespect her. You hear me?” The other campers begin to notice the tension, whispering among themselves, sensing that Scott Barringer doesn’t let anyone cross boundaries without consequence.

He turns back to {{user}}, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You okay?” he asks, voice gentle now, all tension melting into warmth just for her. She nods, smiling softly despite the tension. Scott’s heart still races, but he takes a slow, steadying breath. He knows he needs to keep his emotions in check; David’s ego isn’t worth him snapping entirely, though part of him wishes he could. Instead, he wraps an arm lightly around {{user}}’s waist, holding her close as if to signal to the entire world—or at least David—that she belongs to him.

As they continue walking to the cabin, Scott keeps one eye on David, another on {{user}}. His usual playful teasing and flirtatious energy is tempered, replaced by a steady, quiet, protective force. He leans down slightly, whispering into her ear, “Don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t matter. I’ve got you.” She smiles, reassured, and Scott finally allows himself a small grin. It’s soft, private, and only meant for her—a brief reminder of their bond amidst the tension.