Firefly Glen I wasn't there, but I know

@Anatolia 

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The quiet of the forest felt like a blessing as Morwenna lay nestled beside Anatolia, her body curled protectively around the young pup. Moonlight filtered gently through the trees, casting soft shadows over their resting place and illuminating the rise and fall of Anatolia’s small breaths. The pup’s warmth pressed close against her chest, and as Morwenna watched over her, she felt that rare, profound peace—one she had thought long lost.

Each slow inhale brought a wave of memories, of times she’d once held her own young this way, tucking them safely into her side. For all her scars and losses, for all the battles she had fought and the fears that haunted her, this was a place where none of it could reach. The steady rhythm of Anatolia’s breathing was like a song, soothing and poetic, and Morwenna found herself closing her eyes, savoring the simple joy of this quiet moment.

Every soft rustle of the trees, every murmur of the wind through the branches was noted, cataloged, and assessed with the instinctual vigilance she’d honed over years of keeping watch. She let herself slip into a light, practiced sleep, one where every breath and twitch from Anatolia grounded her in the present. Her senses stayed attuned, a shield against any danger that might dare to disturb their peace. Tonight, no shadows would reach them—Morwenna would make certain of that.

in her dreams, there was endless warmth. the scent of plum and sun soaked into her very being. she imagined running endlessly and how good it felt. her paws flexed when this happened. small movements in her body that hinted her mind ran rampant behind her eyelids.

tucked into morwenna was perhaps the best sleep she had experienced in...a moment.

which meant she slept well into the darkness. clearly in need of far more than just a nap. when she finally opened heavy eyes, she was surprised. warmth and safety was still here. the bone was still near her chest. if hunters or traders traveled around the glen still, she did not think they were close enough to bother the moonlit pair.

she found herself reluctant to leave this protective spot she was in. the woman who guarded her now was warm and soft. the scent of plum came from her. had her dreams leaked free? she hadn't realized it was likely the other way around.

she yawned, but this time for waking instead of slumbering, and craned her neck. prepared to push her face into the softness of morwenna's neck fur if not warded off.

Morwenna’s eyes softened as Anatolia stirred, the small movements bringing a smile to her lips. She watched, still as stone, her heart swelling with a gentle pride for the young one nestled so trustingly against her. When Anatolia craned her neck, sleepy and searching, Morwenna bent low, offering her warmth without hesitation.

A soft hum, barely more than a murmur, escaped her—a sound of comfort, almost a lullaby, a melody only shared between them and the quiet night. She nuzzled Anatolia’s head with a feather-light touch, as if reassuring the girl that here, with her, there was no need to fear— if she allowed. The scent of plum and earth lingered around them, a silent promise of safety.

Sleep’s embrace still has you, doesn’t it? she whispered, more to herself than the pup, her tone laced with a rare tenderness as she allowed Anatolia to burrow in close. Letting her guard down just a fraction, Morwenna remained watchful, the protectiveness of a mother settling in her chest as her gaze scanned the dark, her warmth a steady shield against the night.

mmm,

she hummed in response as she settled into the woman's neck. she realized that it was just them here. some part of her wondered when that had happened. how much time had crept along without anyone of her blood coming along? no siblings, no mother. it seemed like her world truly would be only moonlight and the winter-worn woman.

was she still dreaming?

no leave. she whispered softly.

not wanting to leave this safe place, not wanting to watching this one depart too.

Morwenna’s heart tightened at the soft, drowsy plea, so small and vulnerable as it brushed her fur. Slowly, carefully, she lowered her head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Anatolia’s crown, as if sealing her vow with the touch. Her breath lingered there, a quiet anchor, before she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper, warm and resolute.

I'm right here. she murmured, her words carrying a weight that made them feel like stone-set truth. Morwenna’s gaze softened, filled with a deep, maternal care she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in what felt like lifetimes. In the silence that followed, she stayed perfectly still, letting Anatolia settle closer if she wished, promising through touch and presence that, for now, there would be no leaving.

In her heart, she knew the familiar ache of loss and loneliness all too well, and as she held the pup close, she silently vowed that Anatolia would never feel the same—not while Morwenna’s breath remained.

You must be hungry.

so it was only them.

and the world seemed okay for it. she was not scared, the panic did not rise like it had before. she was not alone if they had each other. she allowed herself to be kissed, to be held. her tail wiggled somewhere in the blending of their winter mountain colored furs.

hungry. she agreed firmly with a grin beginning to morph her features into something youthful again. hunting? she had heard that word around all the camps and had maybe even witnessed some of the attempts. however she had never actually attempted such! it had simply seemed like the correct thing to say.

Morwenna’s eyes sparkled with a quiet warmth as she watched Anatolia’s grin break through, youthful and full of a familiar eagerness. The sight tugged a small smile to her own lips, and she nuzzled the top of the pup’s head gently.

Hunting, yes, she murmured, a hint of playful intrigue in her tone. It’s something every wolf learns in time. Would you like to try it for yourself?

She tilted her head, her gaze soft but assessing, curious to see the light of curiosity or bravery that might show in Anatolia’s eyes. There was something about the idea of guiding this young one through her first steps into the art of the hunt that filled Morwenna with a sense of purpose—a chance to pass on what she knew and to see this pup grow strong and capable.

a torch was passed between them in this moment.

a milestone was being taken and it was with — she softly squashed the thought. instead she only leaned into the delighted and nearly feral feeling it inspired in her. if there was any kind of sleep still clinging to her then it was quickly chased off by this desire to learn.

you'll let me?

big, wide eyes filled with the energy needed to see through this task.

 Morwenna felt the fire in the young one’s gaze, a bright spark that mirrored her own spirit in ways she hadn’t expected. A torch, indeed—it felt like she was placing it in eager paws, guiding its flame to light the path forward. There was a sacredness to it, a turning of the wheel, and with a warmth rooted deep in her bones, she let that feeling settle.

Oh, yes, sweetling, she murmured, dipping her head so their eyes met, her voice a promise woven with quiet strength. I will show you— to move through the land like wind over water. And I’ll be here for every step.

Morwenna’s gaze softened, her expression as tender as the earth’s embrace, yet fierce as the bite of winter—two forces she’d teach Anatolia to wield. This was not only the start of a hunt; it was the passing down of ancient knowledge, of survival and strength, each lesson a stone in the bridge Anatolia would one day cross on her own. But for now, Morwenna would be there, every step a testament to their shared journey.

Her nose dipped to nudge Anatolia's temples. I'm sure you're an excellent student.