Swiftcurrent Creek sweetest thing to ever exist,

@Gjalla ; calls for @Arric @Akavir or @Arlette !!! Can be multiple ofc, love to write with you all.

Morwenna's paws pressed softly against the familiar earth as she guided Gjalla through the dense, winding paths leading to Swiftcurrent Creek. Shadows stretched long beneath the trees, and the faint murmur of the creek wove its melody into the forest's breath, a sound that had always whispered of home. Her amber gaze flickered to Gjalla, a faint smile gracing her features as memories of days long past surfaced, stirred by the presence of kin.

I still remember the times then, she murmured, voice softened by nostalgia. Long ago now, we’d sneak through the store dens in the dead of night to steal lemon tarts—those golden treasures made with barley and the finest lemon grass. Her eyes sparkled, the warmth of old times slipping into her tone. Oh, how we’d eat them under the moon’s watchful gaze, barely stifling our laughter as we evaded the scolding of the elders!

Her expression softened further as they approached the border, the land stretching before them like an old friend. Morwenna halted, casting a respectful glance over the threshold. She inclined her head to Gjalla, a promise that she would not be long, before stepping forward and lifting her voice in a clear, resonant call—a summons for any leaders of the Creek.

With her duty fulfilled, she returned to Gjalla's side, her voice quiet yet rich with the gravity of old days. You’ll find much here, as I did: kinship, tradition, and protection. A place to call your own. Morwenna settled close, casting a final glance toward the shadows, waiting for those who guarded the Creek to welcome her companion.

Gjalla followed, her steps silent but sure, though the softness of the familiar soil did little to ease the tension bracing her every muscle. Shadows cast by tall trees cloaked her in their quiet embrace. Her gaze lingered on Morwenna’s profile, watching the flicker of nostalgia as she recounted their shared past. The woman’s voice, softened by age-old warmth, filled the silence, carrying Gjalla somewhere distant and faintly sweet.

As Morwenna spoke of the lemon tarts, stolen in their youth with glee under a vigilant moon, a pang of something—reverence, perhaps—stirred within Gjalla. She remembered those escapades with a jagged fondness. "I haven’t tasted such sweetness since," she replied, her tone low, though a rare glint of amusement touched her gaze, vanishing as swiftly as it had come. "The elders had little patience for our antics. Those nights always cost us an earful, but I suppose that’s what made them worth it."

The boundary stretched before them like a line drawn between old and new lives. As Morwenna stepped forward, Gjalla felt the strange pull of expectancy settle like a weight in her chest, an apprehensive tightness she hadn’t felt since she first abandoned the idea of 'home.' As they waited, Gjalla’s posture softened just slightly, a hint of surrender hidden in the way she stood, her trust wordlessly tethered to Morwenna's presence.

Arlette heard the howl of Morwenna. Making her pause in her step. The pale female was curious as to why leadership was called. Since she liked the female that had recently joined, the beta was quick to turn her direction towards the border. Arlette quickly located the female and greeted her with a chuff. Then she spotted the other female by their doorstep. Her red eyes turned to Morwenna, she figured she might want to explain or elaborate. She did not want to assume that this female was here to join. Maybe she was just a messenger. Though the way the females acted around each other made her feel that they weren't complete strangers.

I'm Arlette, she introduced. Her posture was open and relaxed as she stood there. A sign of trust that was starting to grow as she was more familiar with Morwenna. Also, the body language of both females wasn't hostile which helped with Arlette's own demeanor.

Morwenna dipped her head toward Arlette in warm acknowledgment, her gaze softening as she looked from her to the wolf beside her, allowing a hint of pride to shine through her usually reserved demeanor.

Arlette, meet Gjalla, she introduced, her voice steady yet carrying a touch of the solemn reverence reserved for old kin. She is no stranger to me—she comes as both ally and kin, one whose strength and loyalty have seen her through many paths.

Her eyes flicked between the two, a spark of encouragement lingering in their depths. She seeks to stand with us, if you’d have her.

The words, simple yet weighted with meaning, hinted at Morwenna’s own hopes for unity and trust among them.

Gjalla stood still, a silent sentinel at Morwenna's side as the pale wolf approached. The soft chuff of greeting drew her attention briefly to Morwenna, but Gjalla did not speak, letting the more familiar voice of her guide bridge the gap between herself and the stranger.

The woman—Arlette—carried herself with a calm assurance that Gjalla noted with faint approval. Her open posture and the ease of her introduction reflected a confidence that was neither arrogant nor careless. "Arlette," she repeated, her voice low but even, the syllables measured. "A name of strength." She dipped her head in a small, formal gesture of acknowledgment, her gaze steady.

Morwenna’s introduction hung in the air, weighted by the subtle warmth of her words. Gjalla’s eyes flicked to her, momentarily caught by the note of pride in her voice.

“—I will not ask for a place here without proving my worth. Words mean little; actions mean everything. If your pack has need of strength, you will find no shortage with me.”

Tags for reference!

Arlette was introduced to the female by Morwenna. She had a pretty name as well Gjalla. She had never heard it before and found it suiting the female. Arlette shot Morwenna an appreciative glance when she explained more about the female. She sounded like she would fit in the Swiftcurrent ranks. Arlette dipped her head in thought.

She almost felt a little bashful at the compliment but caught herself. She offered a kind smile, a non verbal thank you to the compliment. It had been a long time since she thought about her scars, while before they made her unconscious now it made her feel stronger. Arric had helped with that.

We are always in need of strength. The way you speak about actions being more important than words is exactly how we feel about things. I believe you will be a good fit, she offered. I will allow you to prove your worth, she told Gjalla. Introduce yourself to Akavir our Alpha, once you've settled in. He will appreciate that, she added. Arric will also be part of your leadership, he is our beta and my mate. Of course you are also welcome to say hi to him, she hummed.

With that said she howled to the pack (@Akavir and @Arric) that they had a new member.

Morwenna’s eyes widened with uncharacteristic whimsy, a rare moment of unguarded excitement flashing across her features at Gjalla's acceptance. Her tail gave a small, involuntary wag before she caught herself, clearing her throat sharply to regain composure. The flicker of joy was tucked away as quickly as it had come, though her voice carried its faint echo as she addressed Arlette.

Thank you, she said simply, dipping her head in gratitude, her tone steadier now. She cast a glance toward Gjalla, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly in a subtle but genuine smile. I have no doubt Gjalla will prove herself worthy of your trust.

Morwenna stepped back, her gaze flickering between the two, allowing the moment to settle before gesturing with a slight nod. I’ll make sure she’s well acquainted with the lay of the land. Her voice carried a quiet but firm assurance, a promise she intended to keep.

Gjalla listened in silence, her eyes narrowing slightly—not in suspicion, but in careful thought—at Arlette's words. The approval was gracious, the warmth sincere, yet Gjalla could not help but brace herself for the weight of expectation. It was an old habit, born of a life spent proving her worth to those who had little patience for failure—the same impatience that plagued her, too.

Her gaze drifted briefly to Morwenna, catching the subtle wag of her tail and the barely-contained flicker of joy in her expression. Gjalla’s features softened for the barest moment before settling into their usual unreadable calm, the faint smile on Morwenna’s face leaving a small, quiet warmth in her chest.

“I’ll speak with Akavir,” she replied, her tone as even as ever but carrying a note of determination. “And Arric.” she added after a pause. “I will not disappoint.” She offered a small but deliberate nod of acknowledgment, the closest Gjalla came to expressing gratitude. There was no flourish to her words, no embellishment; just a simple, unspoken promise to honor the chance she had been given.

Morwenna’s interjection drew Gjalla’s attention, and the quiet warmth in her kin’s voice did not go unnoticed. It was grounding, a reminder that she was not entirely alone in this endeavor. "I’ll follow your lead," Gjalla murmured to Morwenna, her voice low but tinged with something almost like deference. Her eyes flicked once more to Arlette before settling back on her companion, her stance shifting slightly as if preparing to move.

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we can archive here!