Shy Deer Steppes Nobody's soldier

roan moved sharply, his massive frame stepping into her path, cutting off her movements with a sudden, decisive motion. no! he barked, his tone low and gruff, though it carried an edge of warning rather than anger.

his gaze bore into her, cold and unyielding, before it flickered briefly to her tattered leg. the sight of it deepened the grim line of his jaw. those who perish cannot be helped, he grumbled, his voice gravelly, as if weighed by the finality of his words.

his eyes returned to hers, steady and firm. you’ll get yourself hurt, he muttered, the faintest trace of concern hidden beneath the bluntness of his tone. but there was no softness in his posture, only the resolute barrier he placed between her and whatever lay ahead.