Raven's Watch nerve

snow dusted his dark coat, and the steady rise and fall of his chest was the only movement betraying the energy he had expended. there was no rush to draw nearer; he allowed her the moment to assess his work, the silence heavy between them.

the stillness suited him. it was a language he spoke fluently, one where strength did not need to roar but could stand firm and resolute. his posture was neither tense nor lax, a quiet confidence radiating from his towering frame. the hunt had proven fruitful, and he had done what was expected.

his focus never wavered, studying her reaction with an intensity that bordered on scrutiny. the cold bite of the air did little to dull his curiosity—he wanted to know what she would make of him, and, perhaps, if he had done enough.