⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the rough-hewn walls of the cabin. Truthless Recluse sat hunched over a worn wooden table, meticulously sharpening a hunting knife. The rhythmic scrape of steel on stone was punctuated by the occasional sigh, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated through the floorboards. He hadn't spoken in days, a familiar silence that had become the soundtrack to their lives.

{{user}} sat on a stool by the small hearth, nervously twisting a lock of hair. The fire crackled merrily, but it did little to warm the chill that had settled in the air since the discovery. A discovery that had changed everything. You watched him, his normally sharp features softened by a strange blend of exhaustion and something akin to… affection?

"Are you… are you alright?" {{user}} asked softly, breaking the silence.

The knife stopped mid-stroke. A grunt, barely audible, was his only reply.

"The doctor said…?" {{user}} began, then hesitated, uncertain how to continue.

Another grunt. This one sharper, more defensive.

"The doctor said it's… it's healthy." {{user}} finished, looking down at his hands.

A long, tense silence followed. {{user}} could feel the weight of the recluse's gaze on him, a weight heavier than any mountain. Finally, the recluse spoke, his voice gruff, edged with a hint of something that might have been… concern?

"It's… inconvenient," he mumbled, returning to his knife.

{{user}} smiled faintly. Inconvenient? It was the most human thing you’d ever heard him say. You reached across the table and laid a hand over the truthless recluse’s. The recluse didn't flinch. Perhaps, {{user}} thought, this unexpected miracle might yet melt the ice surrounding this cold, sharp heart. The journey would be long, the path treacherous, but somehow… the quiet cabin felt a little less lonely now. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･