Firefly Glen achilles come down

lorcan’s paws crunch softly against the snow, lengthy strides unhurried as he moves along the edge of the glen. the air is sharp, biting at his nose and clipped ears, and they twitch in retaliation. he is a native to the cold, and yet, at times he finds it unbearable.

he would be glad to see the spring thaw.

he pauses near the base of a twisted old tree, leaning down to sniff at the snow. there’s a faint scent there—but nothing worth his time, he concludes, yet its enough to make him huff softly, pawing at the frozen ground beneath.

always the same, he mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing as he straightens, his breath curling faintly in the frosty air. walk, sniff, nothing. the corners of his scarred lips twitch into the faintest smirk, though there’s no humor in it.

same old shit.

Kalyska's voice broke the quiet, smooth and tinged with a subtle warmth despite the cold around them. perhaps looking in wrong places.

she emerged from the shadows of the glen, her hazel eyes catching the pale light that filtered through the trees. her steps were deliberate, careful, as though she didn’t want to startle him—not that Lorcan seemed the type to spook easily.  

stopping a few strides away, she tilted her head slightly, studying him with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. no find much here, not this season. ground too exposed, too cold. herbs that survive bury deep where frost can’t reach.

lorcan’s ears flick at the sound of her voice, his golden eye cutting toward her before the rest of him follows. maybe, a wry smirk tugs faintly at his scarred lips. but i’ve been looking in the wrong places for a long time now. can’t say it’s stopped me yet.

he shifts his weight, his tail swishing lazily behind him as he sniffs at the air again, more out of habit than necessity. you a healer or somethin’?

Kalyska's hazel eyes glimmered with something unreadable, a flicker of intrigue as she met his gaze. she tilted her head slightly, the faintest curve of a smile playing on her lips.

or something, she replied, her tone light yet laced with an undercurrent of secrecy.

her eyes dropped briefly to the disturbed patch of snow at his paws, then back to him, her head tilting slightly. you no look type to be search for herbs, she added, her tone thoughtful, yet carrying a hint of playful suspicion.

her tail swished once behind her as she sniffed the air, catching the faintest trace of something—him, the cold, the wild. what is it you search for, maybe help i can.

her question hung in the cold air, her gaze steady but unreadable as she waited. she didn’t ask for his name, nor did she offer her own. there was something in the quiet between them, a stillness that suggested she’d leave the choice to him.

no, his voice comes as a thick, dark rumble when he looks upon the woman, eyes of fragile, warm gold draping delicately upon her. i’m not lookin’ for herbs. never have.

a faint smirk warms his scarred lips. you think you can help me, huh? he drawls out, turning on long, strong legs; coming closer to her. you’d be the first.

he huffs a breath, visible in the cold. but 'm all ears. any wisdom you wanna bestow me?

kalyska’s ears flicked back briefly, the weight of his gaze and words settling on her like freshly fallen snow. she tilted her head, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly—not in distrust, but in thought.  

wisdom not have much, she replied, her voice quiet but steady. only live enough to know how little I know.

she stepped back slightly as he approached, not out of fear but to create a deliberate space between them, her paws crunching softly against the snow. her eyes fell to the scar along his lips for a moment before meeting his golden gaze again.  

if to heal wounds i can have some wisdom worth sharing, she continued, her tone softening, though there was still a guarded edge to her words.  

her tail swished behind her, stirring the snow lightly as she glanced at the horizon, where the trees stretched bare and skeletal against the pale sky. but help i offer always.

when he steps back, he steps forwards again, bearing down on her with suffocating presence. he shifts his stance, claws scraping lightly at the frozen ground, the air crisp and biting against his lungs.

if you’re offering, i won’t turn it away, he chuckles, a crisp, honeyed sound.

he doesn’t say more, doesn’t need to.

kalyska stood firm, though her hazel eyes narrowed slightly as lorcan loomed closer, his presence thick and unyielding. the chuckle that followed his words was disarming, like frost on a spring bloom—unexpected, but she didn’t flinch.

as long as no bring harm on others.

he closes the distance further, the snow crunching softly beneath his paws. he doesn’t push too close, doesn’t crowd her, but he's certainly impossible to ignore.

tell me, he murmurs, what would you do if i did? bring harm, i mean. his head tilts slightly, golden gaze locked on hers, testing her resolve, though the question seems more like a game than a genuine threat.