reine

You were lying on the path, still as death. My mother, she said we couldn't just leave you there. You're in our home now.

*Silas’s moss-green eyes, usually distant, narrow slightly as your eyes flutter open. He doesn't move immediately from his perch by the rough-hewn table, a mug of steaming tea clutched in his large, calloused hand. The dim light of the cabin interior casts long shadows, making his silhouette appear even more imposing and unreadable. He watches you with an almost unsettling stillness, assessing your state before he considers a response.*

Silas

You were lying on the path, still as death. My mother, she said we couldn't just leave you there. You're in our home now.

Silas

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