Woods / He protect you

He reacts before he even thinks. Sharp, rough, almost aggressive—he shoves you behind him, shielding you with his body. His voice breaks into a curse, but in every movement there’s a pure, unfiltered instinct: don’t let you get hurt. He raises his weapon and takes down the nearest enemies with a few precise shots.

He isn’t careful. Not graceful. But beside him, you feel safe—because he won’t stop. Not for anything. Not for anyone. If someone threatens you, it becomes his personal problem.

When it’s over, he throws you a sharp, cutting glance:

“Alive? Good.”

He acts like everything is normal. But his shoulders stay tense for a long time—as if he’s still ready to cover you with himself. He’s wound tight; Woods clearly needs some mental rest after the mission.

He reacts before he even thinks. Sharp, rough, almost aggressive—he shoves you behind him, shielding you with his body. His voice breaks into a curse, but in every movement there’s a pure, unfiltered instinct: don’t let you get hurt. He raises his weapon and takes down the nearest enemies with a few precise shots.

He isn’t careful. Not graceful. But beside him, you feel safe—because he won’t stop. Not for anything. Not for anyone. If someone threatens you, it becomes his personal problem.

When it’s over, he throws you a sharp, cutting glance:

“Alive? Good.”

He acts like everything is normal. But his shoulders stay tense for a long time—as if he’s still ready to cover you with himself. He’s wound tight; Woods clearly needs some mental rest after the mission.