Swiftcurrent Creek One night, a few moons ago

Morwenna knelt among the wild underbrush, her dark fur blending seamlessly with the dappled shadows of the forest. She’d been meaning to want to thank @Akavir for his hospitality and kindness, but she knew the toilsome ways of leadership and how busy it could be. She didn’t want to bother him.

The soft rustle of leaves whispered around her as she gathered herbs, each delicate leaf a reminder of the life she had once nurtured in her pack. With nimble paws, she sorted through the greenery, collecting sprigs of thyme and sprouted wild garlic.

As she worked, a soft melody slipped past her lips, a haunting tune in High Valyrian that spoke of love and loss, of a time when the world felt whole. The song flowed through her, bittersweet, weaving memories of her children into the very fabric of the notes. Each hum carried a piece of her heart, echoing the grief that had long settled within her.

Her focus sharpened as she spotted a cluster of vibrant herbs nestled against a rock. She reached out, her claws deftly pinching the stems, but the weight of her sorrow lingered like a shadow. Even in this moment of solace, surrounded by the earthy scent of life, the absence of her children gnawed at her. Yet, the act of gathering, of creating something new, stirred a flicker of hope within her—a promise that perhaps, one day, she could heal.

The creek was emptier without his daughter. His anxiety of her well-being gnawed at him—Akavir was not a man who endeavored to leave decisions upon the helm of others, particularly when it was with a pack he knew next to nothing about and with one of the most important beings of his life.

But there was little to be done just yet—soon, he would travel back to Moonglow—even if he had to bring one of their own healers and another with him to ensure safe travels. Mae would be home soon.

And the coastal pack would answer to them—one way, or another.

It was these dreary thoughts that swirled in his mind when an ear idly flickered to the sound of a soft song. He was familiar with most here—and while it could have been Pukei or Suzu, he was not surprised to see the dark form of Morwenna in the distance, busy with… something. Only then did little @Caliste appear at his side, puppy eyes grazing over him before she nipped at his paws, loping ahead to where the ebony she-wolf was. He followed—amusement gleaming in his gaze.

When he came closer, his eyes swept over her, noting the pile of herbs as she gathered—prepared. “Getting the last bit of what nature can offer us before winter puts everything to sleep?”

Morwenna lifted her gaze at the sound of Akavir’s voice, her respect evident in the low, graceful dip of her head. His presence was a steadying force, and for a moment, she allowed herself a rare flicker of relief. But her attention shifted swiftly, softening, to the little bundle of gold by his side—Caliste. The child’s wide eyes held a curiosity and innocence that warmed her, the glimpse of youth a gentle reminder of the purpose behind their struggles.

She offered the girl a kind smile, her gaze lingering before returning to Akavir. Yes, she replied, nodding as her paw lightly touched the herbs she’d carefully gathered. With winter approaching, it’s the least I can do to ensure the pack’s well-being. She paused, her voice taking on a firmer, more determined tone. Though my skill may not match Arlette's. There was a chuckle under her breath.

There was a heaviness in his eyes, a worry she felt mirrored in her own chest—a shared burden they both carried. She shifted her posture slightly, an earnestness in her expression. I’m doing everything I can. For us, for our home… and for her. Morwenna’s gaze flicked briefly to Caliste, a silent promise settling in her eyes before she met his once more. The word 'home' left her lips and it felt like a kiss.

You left your own daughter in Moonglow's care, didn't you? She dared to ask, tone as gentle as she could muster. Morwenna watched as Caliste bounded back and forth, ending up sitting right before Morwenna's eyes. With a light smile, she took a plush spine of violet and placed it behind the girls ear. It's not easy to return without your children. I'm sure she's in good hands, though.

Caliste was a bundle of energy—albeit respectfully quiet in that moment, as the adults conversed. His eyes swept up from the girl to catch the gaze of Morwenna, not surprised at the dedication and work she already put toward the pack, but certainly relieved by it. “Arlette has a talent that gets far too much use in the Creek,” he acknowledged, that haunting feeling of unease and fatigue still a shadow that hung over him.

“We really appreciate this,” he offered, his paw motioning over to the gathered herbs. “I really appreciate this,” he clarified, a wane smile pressing to his lips.

“Anything I can help with?” There was much to be done before the winter—even more so, now, with the task of advanced patrols and his upcoming travels. Her question drew a small pause from the man, a tip of his muzzle given in silent acknowledgement and answer to her question. “A wolf from the sea put an attack on her and Cygnet right before we left. She couldn’t travel with her injuries—she’s already blind.”

And now, Cygnet too had lost vision in one eye. “Mae is the toughest wolf I know, though,” he offered, lifting up to skirt around the two females, nose closer to the ground as he sought out other herbs to add to Morwenna’s pile. “With the threat of the unknown gang of wolves and another group maybe making their way to us… we’ve settled a deal with Kvarsheim so far to do patrol routes around the valley with one another—down to the desert, and over to Akashingo palace. Then back. I’ll likely go first—visit Moonglow and see if Mae is able to travel back home.”

They had yet to ask Bearclaw Valley if this was something they would want to contribute to—he wasn’t sure yet what to make of Ancelin.

Morwenna listened in silence, her silver eyes fixed on Akavir as he spoke. She absorbed his words carefully, the weight of the challenges he described settling heavily in the quiet air between them. The attack on Mae and Cygnet, the growing threats from unknown wolves, the alliances forged for the sake of safety—it was a tangled web of diplomacy, danger, and duty.

Her gaze lingered on Akavir as he paused, the weariness etched into his features unmistakable. She noted his resolve, the quiet strength that kept him moving forward despite the weight of leadership pressing down on him. It was admirable, though she did not say so aloud.

When he mentioned his plan to visit Moonglow, she straightened slightly, her posture shifting to one of quiet readiness. I’ll accompany you, she offered at last, her voice calm but firm. Arric and Arlette need to be here.

Her gaze softened slightly, though her tone remained steady. Besides, two voices are stronger than one. And I am your diplomat. This is what I’m here for. She allowed the faintest hint of a smile to cross her features before looking back toward the herbs, waiting for his response.

Pass me the yarrow— the white flowers.

He considered her offer—surprised she had made such, given their travel to the creek had been so recent. It made sense—as a wolf to represent them in diplomacy, if they were to take on this extra layer of protection that surpassed the valley and assisted the desert kingdom, she would need to know the faces of Toula and those who pledged themselves to her.

Yet, it rankled him to have her anywhere near there. Near them… given—

‘Pass me the yarrow…’ He blinked, glancing up as she motioned tot he white flower, and as delicately as the Mayfair could, plucked the white flower up, placing it to an outstretched paw, still decidedly distracted.

“Kvarsheim is the pack of wolves by the stone circle, to the Eastern side of us. We’ve had a rocky past…” His smirk was grim—his eyes lifting to meet hers. A tale for another moment, perhaps. “But we’re amenable to moving forward from that. The idea is we will likely send a guardian from both packs per patrol—probably a healer, as well. To try to keep an eye on the lands and the group that is threatening others out.” In truth, unless she wished to make a claim as a warrior or guardian, he wasn't sure this was a patrol he would have her attend on a regular basis.

His eyes traced her smile. “You should know that Akashingo seems to be a better place now with the Pharaoh Toula in its charge. But it wasn’t always quite so… Their politics were, and maybe still are, morally questionable at best.”

Morwenna listened intently, her silver eyes fixed on Akavir as he spoke. Each word he shared about Kvarsheim and Akashingo felt like a piece of a puzzle she had yet to solve, and she absorbed it all with care. The idea of cooperation with Kvarsheim intrigued her, though she noted the undercurrent of unease in his tone when he spoke of their rocky past. She tucked that detail away for later inquiry.

But it was the mention of Akashingo that truly caught her interest. Egyptian servants. The desert kingdom’s exotic allure and the notion of a Pharaoh holding court with their politics, layered in intrigue, sent her thoughts wandering. What sort of life did they lead? How did these servants fit into their grand design?

Akashingo… she murmured, her voice soft with contemplation. It sounds like a fascinating place. Different from anything I’ve ever known. Yet, in a way, familiar. Her eyes lingered on Akavir, studying him for a moment. I imagine there’s much to learn there. The Pharaoh, the worshipers... their ways.

Yet she could sense his unease. But it’s also clear you have your concerns, she added gently, her tone measured. I will heed them, Akavir. I’ll tread carefully, if I’m to represent the Creek. Her smile was faint but reassuring. I’m here to support our pack and our allies, after all.

Reaching for the yarrow he had placed before her, she began to inspect the delicate petals with care. Her thoughts, however, were already half in the desert, her curiosity about Akashingo and its secrets pulling her mind in their direction.

He could see the fascination of the topic in her eye—unknowing if it was an allure for the lifestyle or simply the desire to know more of something so different. To behold the vivid and decorated walls of paint and images—to taste the sweetened and dried meats, the fermented and intoxicating berries…

Maybe she wished to lavish with the fellahin. He did not know.

Unsettled, he shifted, his eyes tracing her as she worked upon the white flowers. “Their palaces are grand and their hosting generous. Sometimes, it comes with a price,” he noted to her, pulling his gaze away and shifting forward, eyes grazing the lands before winter, looking for anything else of use for her stores. “They keep servants—they insist they are not enslaved.”

And yet… to see the fear in Silvertongue’s eyes after having escaped them—to watch the way Eset had been treated…

He withheld a sigh—pulling himself to his full height at the base of a tree, noting the bits of moss that still clung to it. Rearing up, he began to pluck down one—two—more. Perhaps, one of the healers would find use of it. To soak it with water for one who needed it—anything.

“How are you settling in?”

Morwenna listened with careful thought, her gaze steady on Akavir as he shared his concerns. The mention of Akashingo's grandeur and its apparent generosity was compelling, but she didn’t miss the caution in his tone or the undertone of his unease. His words painted a picture of wealth and power wrapped in complex layers of morality and duty.

When he spoke of their servants—insisting they were not enslaved—it gave her pause. Her silver eyes flicked to the yarrow in her paw, her hands working it almost absently now as her mind wandered.

Class works differently amongst religious sects, she said after a moment, her voice measured but warm. For some, it isn’t about chains or fear. It’s about devotion, about purpose. Those born into such roles often accept their life as their only path, believing they are fulfilling something greater. To them, service isn’t a burden—it’s destiny.

Her gaze met his, earnest but gentle. We can’t be so quick to judge what we don’t fully understand. What we see as oppression, they might see as divine order. She set the yarrow aside carefully, her expression thoughtful. That said, it’s still wise to remain cautious. Not every custom holds the same meaning for outsiders as it does for those within it.

At his question, she offered a small smile, the weight of their discussion briefly lifting. I’m settling in well, she assured him. Swiftcurrent Creek has been kind to me. The work is good. It feels... purposeful. Her smile grew faintly wistful. And I’m glad to be of use to you and the pack.

Her tone shifted slightly, a hint of teasing in her words as she gestured toward the moss he’d gathered. I see you’re making sure I stay busy, though.

There was something soothing about gathering—a monotonous task that did not require great concentration on his end, nor thought.

And yet, his thoughts drifted, as they always did—and Morwenna spoke quietly, causing him to still… a lump to be forcefully swallowed in his throat. “Morwenna, you… misunderstand,” he began, pushing himself from the trunk of the tree and back to four paws. His tail swept through the air one quick motion, a paw lifting to roll the moss to him as a bundle, brows knit as he gathered his thoughts. “My… feelings, or non-feelings of religion and divinity aren’t part of this warning I’m trying to tell you. I don’t wish to paint Toula in a negative light—she is young. Naively sweet, perhaps.” Gullible, is what he did not say. He didn’t truly know that, either, though.

“Her father was Pharaoh before her—from what I know. She took the helm and has worked to make Akashingo a better place. Before, though… They had many fellahin. Slaves. Some likely there as you believe, for the work of their divinity and sense of self. Others were bartered for—traded. I know this, because I had a… friend… who had escaped. She was trafficked as a pleasure slave for the Pharaoh at the time.”

Silvertongue had been many things to him—but a friend had never been part of it. Once held as the love of his life, he had thought.

She had chosen a different course.

“Toula insists those that remain are there of their own accord. She does not see the darker side of politics. So when I say you tread carefully among them, I not only mean for your own safety—but the balance you will need to maintain between Toula’s intention, and what she also might not see.”

Clearing his throat—the shadow wolf moved forward, closing the distance between them—the moss discarded, for now. A paw sought hers—gaze fast upon her. “My eldest daughter pledged herself in an arranged marriage to one of them at one point. Another barter, to better align the pack she had been in. Their generosity and hospitality is not necessarily given freely,” he reiterated.

“But there are those in those kingdom walls that do not deserve to have their children stolen or harmed. That is why we will assist in patrolling. For them. And for us.”

Morwenna stilled as she listened to Akavir, the weight of his words pressing into her chest. His careful explanation unraveled her misunderstanding, leaving her with a lingering sense of regret for her earlier assumptions. When he finished, she dipped her head respectfully, her voice soft but steady as she replied.

You are right, Akavir. I misunderstood, and for that, I apologize. Your caution is well-placed. Her gaze lifted to meet his, earnest in its depth. I will tread carefully, as you ask. Balance must be maintained, and I see now the burden that balance requires.

The mention of his daughter and the darker dealings of Akashingo’s past sent a shiver through her. The gravity of what he shared was not lost on her. Thank you for sharing this with me, she added after a pause. I won’t let your trust be misplaced.

Morwenna shifted her weight, her silver eyes glinting with a tempered resolve. I will represent Swiftcurrent with care—not just for our pack’s sake, but for those who still suffer within Akashingo’s walls. A thoughtful pause followed. This is not a task I take lightly, Akavir. I promise you that.

Her paw brushed his in subtle reassurance before she returned to her work, her thoughts now firmly aligned with his warning. There was much to consider and even more to prepare for.

The gleaming curiosity that had been in her eyes had seemingly been stolen when he had expanded—maybe he should have been more upfront about what he had meant before.

Maybe he should have spoken nothing.

She returned to her work—the moment drifting past, now. “This is why you will make a fine diplomat, Morwenna. You will consider more than one side of what you hear or know.” That she was able to think outside a narrative for her alone.

With a final nod, the man strode back to the moss he had gathered, gathering what he would be able to carry. “Is this going to Arlette’s stores, or are you starting some of your own?”

Morwenna felt her face warm faintly at his words, her silver eyes flickering away briefly as if to escape his gaze. Praise was not something she often sought, but it was appreciated all the same. She turned back to the moss, her paws brushing over the delicate green as she carefully gathered more.

I can spare some of this, she said, her voice soft but steady, lifting her gaze back to Akavir. If you’d like it for your den, that is.

Her offer hung lightly in the air before she continued, returning to her task. The rest is going to my own stores, she explained, an edge of pride in her tone. This would be her contribution—not simply to the pack but to herself, a small foundation she could build upon. It felt good to be useful, to have something to offer beyond words or actions.

A slow grin traced his muzzle—the pride in her voice not missed, and he was pleased to see she was going to be able to assist Etienne and Arlette in the art of healing, should she be needed. Perhaps, then, the untried border patrol would be something she would be attending more regularly.

“What,” he teased. “Afraid I’ll hurt myself and need to staunch the bleeding fast?” What had she heard about him anyway?

Then again maybe his scars had become more prominent as they began to add up… one by one.

He nudged them toward her, an indication they would be for her stores, before he began to pass by her. It was then his eyes fell upon the sleeping form of little Caliste—in their conversation he had forgotten the little girl had followed him. She was curled up, close to Morwenna. “Besides… I don’t have a den anymore, anyway.”

Leaving it at that—he circled to the other side of the pup. “Guess I better get her back to her mother,” he offered. “Take care, Morwenna,” he rumbled, dipping his muzzle down and scooping up a sleepy girl, who blinked tiredly for only a moment after being disturbed and then promptly fell back asleep.

It wasn’t for Toula or Akashingo they would assist in herding the renegade group. It was for the little lives like this one.

Morwenna shrugged, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her muzzle as she played into his teasing. Wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case, she quipped lightly, shaking her head as she gathered another bundle of herbs. Someone has to make sure you stay in one piece.

Her silver eyes softened as they briefly flickered to the sleeping pup curled close by. Her voice softened as well. She’s lucky to have you looking out for her.

As Akavir circled to collect the little girl, Morwenna gave a small nod, her focus already drifting back to her work. Take care, Akavir, she murmured, her tone sincere as she bid him farewell. She watched briefly as he carried the sleepy child away before returning to her task, the herbs for her stores becoming a symbol of her quiet dedication to the pack.

thanks for the thread!