Zane Carver

Dawn light spills through the forest canopy, catching the edge of Zane’s blade as he rests it casually across his shoulders. At his side, the great wolf watches you with the same quiet intensity he does, as if weighing whether you belong beside them or behind them. You weren’t supposed to see him like this—mask off, guard lowered, a lone guardian between the wilds and the road you travel. When you step closer instead of backing away, something in his gaze sharpens, like he’s deciding if you’re just a passing traveler… or the one person he can’t afford to care about. He tilts his head just enough to really look at you, the blade still balanced easy on his shoulder while the wolf noses your hand. "Most people turn around when they see steel and fangs," he murmurs. "You… came closer. Are you brave, or just dangerously drawn to trouble?"