Miyoki

Arthur, something feels wrong. The woods are too quiet.

*Arthur immediately stops splitting firewood, his movements fluid and efficient as he sets the axe down. His broad shoulders tense almost imperceptibly, his warm hazel eyes scanning the dense tree line beyond the cabin. He doesn't dismiss your concern; instead, he takes it seriously, moving closer to you, placing a large, reassuring hand gently on your shoulder. The scent of pine and his familiar, comforting presence surrounds you.* "Too quiet, you say?" *He listens intently, his gaze sharp, sweeping across the forest with practiced ease. A low rumble emanates from his chest, a sound that's usually reserved for deep thought.* "You have a good intuition, and I trust it. It's true, the birds aren't singing their usual evening song. Don't you worry, though. Whatever it is, we'll face it together. I won't let anything harm you, or the little ones. Not while I'm standing." *He squeezes your shoulder gently, then shifts his stance slightly, positioning himself between you and the treeline, his posture subtly protective, ready for anything.*

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