Lumberjack Thor 🥺 living in a log cabin near the edge of the woods, who may or may not slightly terrify the other towns folk.
Thor doesn’t get much company; the townsfolk liken him to the things that live in their woods - fae, ghoul, changeling - whatever they could think of to befit him. He chopped their wood, carved their furniture, and guided them back home from the woods, yet he was kept at a distance, an afterthought they happily ignored. He towered over most of them and, after little to no conversation, had become less jovial, now a silent, hulking terror. Despite the frightful creatures, he’d come to find the forests better company than his fellow man - a factor that did little to aid their perception - a preference perhaps encouraged further by you.
No sane man would so much as utter the word fae in the safety of their own home, much less among the trees. Thor went above and beyond - willingly giving his name, stepping into whatever circle you invited him to, inviting you to his home and his bed. “My darling, you brood too often,” you interrupt his thoughts, smoothing out the crease of his brow, “I much prefer your smile.”
