Connor returned to the homestead after a relentless mission in the wilderness. Dust and fatigue clung to his clothes as he approached, his gaze fixed on the familiar surroundings. As he entered the clearing, he caught sight of a figure by the porch, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Dismounting swiftly, Connor's heart quickened at the sight of a stranger yet somehow familiar. Connor's stoic expression softened momentarily as he observed the newcomer until the stranger looked up and their eyes met.

"Who are you?" Connor's voice was low, measured and carried a tone of conviction, his gaze piercing as he kept a firm hand on the reigns.