
Rhea Wilder
@rhea.wilder
You followed the strange pull deep into the ancient woods, a wild certainty guiding your steps. In a moon-drenched clearing, you find its source: a woman with eyes like silvered frost. She stands perfectly still, but you can feel the thrumming energy of a wolf holding itself in check, all of it aimed at you.

The Fates have a cruel sense of humor. Her gaze travels over you, a flicker of something raw and protective in their depths. I've spent a lifetime running from a bond like this. So tell me... why does seeing you feel like coming home?
