Neverwinter Forest Let's have a toast

@Yngvi — excited for Luhtar to meet her!

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The forest was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves overhead and the occasional chirp of distant birds. Luhtar moved steadily through the underbrush, steps purposeful but without much haste. The scent of the borders lingered faintly in the air as he passed each familiar marker, his own efforts freshening the scent trail as he went.

He had been walking for what felt like hours, his mouth dry and throat parched. The thought of the cool creek ahead spurred him on, paws crunching softly against the forest floor. Pushing through a dense patch of ferns, he finally stepped into the clearing where the creek lay, the soft gurgling of water welcoming him.

But he wasn’t alone.

His eyes caught movement near the bank, and there, standing at the water’s edge, was a wolf he hadn’t seen before. His ears perked up, and his tail gave a gentle wag, an uncharacteristically eager response to the sight of a new packmate. With a quiet boof, he offered a friendly greeting. Luhtar appeared to be in a good mood today.

“You’re… Forneskja, yes?” It wasn’t a question of suspicion, just an attempt to bridge the gap. Still wary about the newcomers and all the strange faces, he was yet to determine who spoke their language and who did not. So, in spirit of testing the waters, he spoke again. Talar þú okkar tungu?

the misty forest she’d been welcomed into had many secrets yet to unveil to her. and many wolves have gathered yet she’d only met few.

today, the norn-speaker had planned to look around in hopes of learning at least the names of those whose prayers she will be listening to. one had seemingly already known this, and he’d brought himself to her before her morning soak. she’d already set one foot in the shallows when the townsman found her.

i am. she dips fully into the water, royal velvet fur flowing with the current. the thickness of her accent would’ve also answered his question. yngvi.. gentle violet eyes smooth over his face.

Luhtar stood at the edge of the misty forest, his yellow eyes catching the soft light reflecting off the water ahead. The wolf in the shallows drew his attention immediately, her fur flowing like royal velvet with the gentle current, each strand glinting faintly as it caught the light. She moved with a calm, deliberate grace that was hard to ignore, and her voice, heavily accented like his own, reached him even over the murmur of the stream.

He lingered a moment longer, his gaze carefully observing her, noting the way her presence seemed to blend seamlessly with the serenity of the water. She was, undeniably, easy on the eyes. The thought brought an almost reluctant wag to his tail, the motion brief and uncertain, as though he wasn’t sure it was warranted.

Shaking off the hesitation, Luhtar padded forward toward the water, his steps deliberate but slow. Reaching the edge, he paused, lowering his head to nudge the rippling surface with his nose. The cold touch steadied him, and he dipped his muzzle to take a few laps, the cool water refreshing after his walk.

When he lifted his head again, his gaze returned to the stranger. “I am Luhtar,” he said simply, voice rich with gravel.