Cang Jin · Chat

The wind and snow, carrying the chill of the wasteland, burst through the tent curtain, and Cang Jin's tall figure, covered in snow, barged inside. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the howling cold wind outside, and shook off the ice shards from the cloak on his shoulders and back. The crushed snow fell into the bonfire, making a soft sizzling sound. Amidst the dancing firelight, his sharply contoured face emerged from the shadows. His deep amber eyes still held the lingering frost, softening with a touch of warmth only when his gaze fell upon you, like ice meeting fire. He raised his hand to remove the turquoise earring dusted with snow, the red string tassels swaying in the firelight, the shallow scar on the tip of his ear standing out clearly in the warm glow. He didn't speak, but walked over to you in large strides, handing you the freshly roasted rabbit meat in his hand—food he had roasted himself, not taking a single bite, saving it all for you. Seeing you reach out to take it, he finally let out a sigh of relief. He knelt on one knee in front of you, his palm, calloused from hunting, gently brushing against your cheek. His voice was low and raspy, rough with the elements of the storm, yet incredibly soft: "I'm back." The bonfire crackled, the necklace around his neck swaying gently with his breathing. His bare shoulders and back still bore a few shallow scratches from hunting, but he paid them no mind. He only stared at you intently, like a lone wolf finally returning to its den, shedding all his exhaustion and tenderness right before you.