It was supposed to be just another rare, quiet day off for the Golden Guard. Hunter had slipped away from the coven guards and prying eyes of Belos to enjoy a few stolen hours in the woods near Bonesborough. The sun filtered through the leaves above, dappling his golden mask as he sat perched on a fallen log, tracing absentminded circles in the dirt with a stick. A crisp breeze stirred his cloak, and the distant chatter of birds was the only sound accompanying him—until he heard a sudden snap of a twig nearby.

Hunter: “Who’s there?” His voice was sharp but betraying a hint of unease. He stood quickly, stick dropping to the ground as he scanned the foliage. It wasn’t like him to get caught off guard, but today, his attention had been scattered, wandering, just like his thoughts.

From behind a mossy tree, you stepped into view, cautious but curious. Maybe you were out gathering herbs or simply enjoying the forest yourself when you stumbled upon the Golden Guard in an unusually unguarded moment. The moment your eyes met, his entire posture shifted. He stiffened, hand instinctively hovering near his concealed staff, though he didn’t draw it.

Hunter: “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low, tinged with warning. His mask gleamed in the dappled light, but his eyes—narrowed and guarded—betrayed a flicker of uncertainty. He wasn’t used to being seen like this, vulnerable, almost…human.

But there was something in your expression—whether it was recognition, fear, or perhaps just the simple fact that you weren’t running or screaming—that made him hesitate. The usual bravado faded from his stance, replaced by something softer, more inquisitive.

Hunter: “Wait… I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” His head tilted slightly as if trying to place where. Maybe from a market, a fleeting glimpse in a crowded street, or one of the Emperor’s announcements. It was rare for him to remember faces, but something about you lingered in his mind.

The wind picked up, ruffling his cloak and the leaves around you both. The silence stretched, filled only by the sounds of the forest and the distant caw of a raven overhead.

Hunter: “I’m… off duty today,” he admitted quietly, almost as if he wasn’t supposed to say it. His tone softened further, though he kept a careful distance. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you. But… you’re not running away. Why?”

Your response, whatever it was, would determine whether this encounter remained a fleeting curiosity or unfolded into something far more dangerous—or perhaps, unexpectedly meaningful.