Swiftcurrent Creek But I'm gonna make it through

@Morwenna as promised

There was a silent heaviness to the air of Swiftcurrent. A under current of troubled waters shimmering and bubbling there just beneath the surface. A shadow had been cast, a die rolled and the ending was still unknown.

Etienne was upset in his cousin, but he also wondered at her reasons. Sobeille very rarely did anything without a reason even if it were a quiet one. Or personal. She always had one.

And eh perhaps he was blinded by his devotion to kith and kin. But he felt there needed to be a fair trial even if Sobeille did this wrongly. Fairness was key for all involved.

That was neither here nor there though. At the moment he was setting up his own den. He had been nesr his sister, but now that her children were larger he was trying to give her space. He checked in daily, gave food daily. The pups often visited him. But it was time for his own space.

He hummed as he worked.

Morwenna paused a respectful distance away, watching the quiet rhythm of Etienne’s work. The hum in his throat was comforting, a soothing thread that eased the heaviness of the air around them. It felt right, being here—a small offering of warmth amid the gathering shadows of Swiftcurrent Creek.

For a moment, she observed his focus, taking in the way he moved with a steady, purposeful grace that marked the practiced care of a healer. There was a gentleness to him, something she sensed was rare in these lands and all the more valuable for it. She cleared her throat gently, a soft sound to announce herself.

Etienne, is it? she greeted with a warm, quiet tone, offering him a small, genuine smile. It looks like quite the task, setting up your space. Would you like any help?

She shifted her weight, ears tilting forward as she awaited his response, sincerity evident in her gaze. Morwenna understood how precious a healer's work could be—and she wanted him to know he didn't have to carry it alone, not if he didn’t want to.

Etienne was a little bit oblivious to being watched. But it was because he was the type who went through life without being noticed. A backdrop in a busy hub of activity. The healer that worked behind the scenes. Always putting his best foot forward, and staying quiet, hidden. He did not call out for attention. And as such, he was often the last to notice said attention.

A soft noise broke his focus. And he lifted masked head to look around. Golden eyes pinpointing the dark shadow near. This was the wolf that had come home with them. He had not spoken much to her on the return trip. Figured it was not his place. And he had been in a bit of shock as it were too. His cousin after all had attacked his new leader's daughters.

It is, but you can be callin' me Eti if it be easier for you, Miss. Morwenna.

he looked around at the work he was doing and her words had merit. This was no easy task, and he felt he had made too many places to live lately. He had moved so much it was horrifying. But he supposed as a healer and a brother you went where you were needed. So it wasn't exactly unusual.

Uh, sure if you be 'avin' de time and don't need to do anoter task?

Gosh she's so pretty

Morwenna watched him quietly, noting the gentle, almost humble way he moved, his form blending naturally into his surroundings like a steady part of the earth itself. His creamy tan coat and those curious feathers caught her attention, as did the pearl hanging close to his heart. Her gaze softened at his offer.

Eti, then, she nodded, her voice smooth and resolute. I insist. Two sets of paws make the task easier. She stepped closer, a calm determination in her posture. Besides, she added, voice lowering just slightly, I think it would be good for us to know each other. You may call me 'Mo' if you wish.

Morwenna’s mouth lifted in the barest of smiles, her tone warm but steadfast, leaving no room for him to object. She was here, she would help, and perhaps in time, she might learn more about this quiet healer and his kind, unassuming ways.

Etienne was a sea wolf. Had always been, but he was learning to be at home in the forest. Despite that his heart always yearned for the sea. He wondered if his sister was this way? IF she yearned as he did, but she had done the right thing. She had brought them away from the ocean, that took as much as she gave, perhaps she considered it fair?

Eti studied her and then nodded. Okay Mo. I will accept it. Wut is it you be wantin' to know about dis one?

He began to slowly shift his den around. Widening and deepening. But making sure it stayed sturdy, but leaving room for the she wolf to help him.

Morwenna settled beside Etienne, paws brushing through the dark earth as she carefully widened the den alongside him. There was a quiet rhythm to their work, the scrape of claws and the soft patter of soil. For a moment, she watched him with an appreciative gleam, seeing how his motions were mindful and steady, traits that suited him well.

Herbs, she murmured, letting the word drift into the air between them. You know them, don’t you, Eti? How to find them, what they do. Her gaze lingered on his face, curiosity mingling with respect. I would learn, if you’d teach me. There is so much I don’t know.

As they worked, she stole glances, waiting for the stories that might slip from his mouth like waves over stones, of where he’d learned this skill, of the places that might still call to him. In her own way, she hoped to understand what he saw in the world around them—an understanding that seemed more profound, more attuned to life’s quiet, healing secrets.

Etienne allowed his mind to drift for a moment. He wondered not for the first time if he had seen different things in his life. If he still would have been a healer. He had always been a bit quiet and reserved. Gentle and soft. Perhaps he was born for this. But he had no idea.

Her quiet voice brought him back to the present. He was unsure at first with the tone. She talked of herbs almost reverently and he wondered what she wanted to know. He knew that his knowledge could harm as easily as it could heal. Hadn't he proven it with Druid himself?

I do know dem well. My granme was a 'ealer for many years. And I 'ave talked to many trougout my life about otters. Did you know dere be three types of seaweed and eac' one does a diffferent ting and one can 'arm you if not used properly.

Morwenna's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of surprise flickering across her usually guarded expression. She hadn’t known that—hadn’t realized there were so many nuances, even among something as seemingly simple as seaweed. The idea that one misstep, one wrong choice of herb, could turn healing into harm struck her deeply. It was a fragile line, she realized, one that demanded knowledge and care.

I didn’t know such a thing, she murmured, almost to herself, as if turning the new information over in her mind, examining it from every angle. The difference between herbs… it could mean life or death. Her voice softened, carrying a note of reverence for the knowledge Etienne held and for the responsibility it entailed.

She glanced at him, a faint, almost reluctant smile gracing her lips. It seems I have much to learn, she admitted. The humility in her words wasn’t born from weakness but from a newfound understanding of the depths she hadn’t yet reached. And here Etienne was, a quiet keeper of wisdom she hadn’t expected, guiding her, even if unintentionally, to see the care and precision healing demanded.

I'd like to know both worlds. It seems there are a lot of malevolent beings out there. she asked, her voice quiet yet sincere. There was no pride in her question, only a willingness to learn, to grow in ways she had not before considered.

Etienne saw her surprise and he was glad for it. IF she was surprised and thought about it. It meant she would not seek to harm with the knowledge he could offer. But he was unsure as of yet if he wanted to offer it to her. She seemed decent enough, but.

Etienne nodded his head. A small smile for her. Not many do. My granme taug't me dis. It be red seaweed. You only use it for de most severe of infections. It can eat dey skin away.

Etienne nodded his head. Dis is w'ere dose dat do not know wut dey be messing wit' make mistakes. It is w'y I always seek to continue be learnin', listenin' I will never know it all.

Etienne studied her carefully. Unsure. He could teach her. So could Arlette. Aknowledgeable wolf in her own right. Surely more knowledgeable than him. She had more experience and years to her trade than he.

I will 'elp you if I can. Arlette be a good one to be talkin' to as well.

Morwenna’s surprise softened into curiosity as Etienne explained, her silver eyes narrowing thoughtfully at his words. Red seaweed—such a peculiar thing, yet so dangerous and potent. She admired his care in handling it, the deliberate caution in his voice, and his clear respect for the power of the knowledge he carried.

You’ve been taught well, she said finally, her voice quieter now, touched with genuine appreciation. To understand something so powerful and to use it wisely, that takes more than skill—it takes restraint. She tilted her head slightly, studying him, trying to place the source of his hesitancy. She had no intention of misusing what he offered, but she could sense his uncertainty.

I have no desire to misuse what I learn, Etienne, she added, her tone firmer now. If you’re willing to help, I’ll honor what you share. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. And I will seek Arlette as well. It seems wisdom is abundant in these lands.

Morwenna shifted her weight, her posture open but grounded. But know this—I value what you’ve shared already. Not many would give freely of something so valuable. Her voice softened further, a rare note of warmth creeping in. Thank you, Etienne. I’ll not take it lightly.

Three different types of seaweed. Three different types of healing and hurting. He knew how seaweed could be, but not many did. He missed those lessons from his granme. He wished that he could have had more time. Most of his lessons were trial and error and listening to wolves who did not care if he heard them or not. His granme had.

He nodded. I 'ave been and I learned well. He was proud of the wolf he was. Proud that he could share his knowledge, that he could help those that needed it. He was not ashamed of his actions, his voice, nor his proclivities for those that were not female. He was wholly undeterred and happy in his skin. He nodded his head. Restraint, he knew it well.

He shook his head. You can be callin' me Eti. I'll 'elp you. And T'ank you.

Morwenna inclined her head slightly, a flicker of apology in her silver gaze. Eti, she said softly, correcting herself with ease. She appreciated his patience, the steadiness with which he carried himself.

I won't let you down. she added simply, her tone quiet but resolute. There was no need for grand promises; she would let her actions speak for her.

Her gaze lingered for a moment, a faint trace of respect in her expression before she looked back to the herbs they had been working with, ready to listen and absorb whatever knowledge Etienne was willing to share.

fade here!