Duskfire Glacier where the horned one sleeps

Her leg has grown stronger, just enough that Satori is confident hobbling around on three legs without a stick-brace or ox-hide wrap. Although it slows her down greatly, she does not allow it hinder her independence as she ranges the meadow today.

The lake glitters beautifully in the springtime sun, and though it is still early in the season, the druid already feels more at ease now winter's grip is slowly melting. 

Herds graze in the distance, but Satori has eyes only for one thing. The delicate, white flowers are easy to find in the thaw and dot the tough grasses in sizeable clumps; daisies - her mother had taught her well to stockpile these invaluable plants in case of emergencies. She stoops to pick them leaves and all to whisk back to her den and dry beneath the dirt.

@Faust maybe..?

!!

satori.
his voice broke the stillness, low and firm, a quiet greeting carried on the breeze.
faust stood at the meadow’s edge, his dark silhouette stark against the thawing land. tension held him stiff, woven into his broad frame like a second skin. his gaze swept over her, sharp, assessing—the way she moved, the way she carried herself without the crutch she had once relied upon. stronger now. good.
but he did not soften.
the glacier had not given him the chance to breathe. not since winter, not since alliances and betrayals had tangled like roots beneath his feet, threatening to pull him under.
yet here she was. still tending to the land, still gathering, still herself.
he stepped forward, slow but deliberate, his green eyes flicking to the daisies she collected. how is the leg? his tone was gruff, edged with something unreadable. he had not asked before—not like this. not without an expectation behind it.

The voice of a familiar pulled the druid from her task and her head raised momentarily to greet Faust with a vegetation-filled smile. He was tough, always resolute - but she had grown used to it by now. He'd become her rock while the world raged around them, while the rest of the glacier battled with matters of heart and tooth.

Satori had stuck to the outskirts, avoiding the harsh looks of disdain by most - and by Faust too - though she'd come to realised his stemmed from a place of care. 

"Healing well, thank you," she deposits her most recent mouthful in a growing pile and comes to press her nose to his cheek in greeting. "Another moon or so and it will be right as rain." It was hard to remain positive when the odds were stacked against her, and the feeling of uselessness threatened to make her wallow. But she'd worked where she could, gathered supplies and mending tools; for warriors so often neglected their health in favour of physical prowess.

faust lingered in the quiet between them.
her touch was brief, the press of her nose to his cheek—soft, fleeting, familiar. it was easy to forget, in moments like these, that the glacier was still turning, that the world beyond them had not yet settled.
he exhaled through his nose, a slow sound, before stepping closer. he lowered his head, brushing his muzzle along the curve of her nape in the way of their kind—a greeting, a reassurance, something older than words.
have you been made aware of what has been going on?
his voice was quieter now, though the weight of his tension had not lessened. he knew she kept to the outskirts, knew she did not entangle herself in the politics that churned around them, but even she could not ignore the ripples of what had been set in motion.

Quietly, she allowed his touch, welcomed the warmth of his skin before pulling away as he spoke. "The talks of peace?" though she had not attended the meeting for her injury, the news of a tentative alliance had not escaped Satori's ears. Beyond that, she knew not what he referred to.

Life for the druid had moved at snailspace, while the rest of the glacier was a whirlwind, and though she did not mind being out of the loop, the quirk of a brow betrayed her intrigue.

"I am not aware of much beyond the meadow these days."

winsook and saatsine have agreed to a treaty of peace with us.
faust spoke the words evenly, but there was no triumph in them. no relief.
but svalla, she threatens it.
his voice was quieter now, roughened at the edges. how many times had he cleaned up after her? how many times had she tested him, pushed him to his limits, danced on the precipice of ruin as if it meant nothing?
he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. his gaze flicked to the meadow beyond her, as if searching for something far away, something beyond the stretch of this moment.
i am tired.
it was the closest thing to vulnerability he would allow himself. his shoulders were heavy with it, the weight of darukaal pressing down like the glacier itself, grinding him into something colder, something harder.
but here—with her—he did not have to hold it alone.
he looked at her then, green eyes steady despite the exhaustion that seeped into his bones. the girl child is gone. lousine. but i don't imagine you were fond of her. it wasn’t an accusation. just truth. satori was many things—wise, patient, a presence that soothed even the sharpest wounds—but she was not the kind to interfere.
and yet, she remained.
his tail flicked once before he turned his head away, staring past the horizon.
the wildling plays with fire. he huffed a quiet laugh, humorless. and i am the one who will burn for it.

Satori listened dutifully as he unlaid much on her. Peace in the north, a woman - Svalla - who threatened to unravel it. Her eyebrows knit in thoughtful disapproval. "You've worked hard for it. Do you intend to let her undo it all?" It was less a question and more to stir his thoughts, and though she did not specify, did not know how Faust would interpret her question, her voice took on an almost uncharacteristic firmness.

She wished not to see the woman punished as the forest had done to her, but Faust was a man of his own. In the end, it was he who would decide how to deal with a wayward wildling.

At his admission, Satori moves noiselessly to his side, brushing away the news of Lousine though her heart aches to acknowledge the feelings that come with it. "She was young, foolish. I hope she finds safe passage where she goes." And it is the truth. He is wrong then, to think he is the only one to burn. "Come, I want to show you something." Tail flicking along his spine, she begins to move to where a line of caribou dot the horizon.

it cannot all be for nothing.
the words left him gruff, worn with exhaustion, but they held weight. they had to.
faust had fought too hard, bled too much, sacrificed too many pieces of himself to let it all unravel because of one reckless woman.
he exhaled sharply, nodding once—an agreement, a hope, a quiet acceptance. lousine had made her choice, foolish as it was. perhaps she would find her way. perhaps she wouldn’t.
but it could not all be for nothing.
he followed after satori as she moved, her presence a steady thing, constant despite the glacier’s shifting tides. she understood him, even when he did not speak. his nose brushed against the back of her hind leg as he fell into step beside her, a silent gesture—one of habit, of closeness, of trust.
his green eyes flicked toward the distant line of caribou she led him toward, brow furrowing slightly. what is it?
for the first time that day, his voice carried something that was not just weariness. it carried curiosity.

Leading onwards to a rise overlooking the lake, she hid a smile at his touch in the furs of her chest before coming to a pause at the precipice. Below them, sprawled an undulating mass of both caribou and oxen grazing peacefully on the shoots of new grasses, and amidst their hooves - "There."

If Faust were to follow the line of her snout, he'd see the first of many new calves tottering on legs too long for their bodies. "Aren't they cute?" And she says nothing else for a moment, content on watching them play. 

"They raise their young together, you know." Her paws shift, unsure if this was something he wished to hear. "I guess - what I'm trying to say is, you do not need to shoulder the weight of Darukaal alone. We are here to carry it with you, if you need." Iosef, herself, others too. They were a pack, they were family.

faust followed her gaze, and for a moment, he let himself forget.
below them, the herds moved in slow, rolling waves—caribou, oxen, mothers and their young. calves teetered on unsteady legs, their small bodies testing the limits of movement, some stumbling, some running wild.
his lips twitched, a rare, loose smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. cute, he echoed, a quiet, amused huff beneath his breath.
it was a fragile thing, their first days. the way the young did not yet know how cruel the world could be. they knew only warmth, only the press of their mothers' sides, the soft encouragement of their kin.
his expression darkened slightly as satori spoke again.
he did not look at her right away. the weight of darukaal was his own. it had always been. even as she reassured him, as she spoke of iosef, of the others, of the family they had built—he did not know how to let go.
but he wanted to.
his green eyes softened, flicking back to the young ones playing below. we will see. it was not quite an acceptance, not yet. but it was something.

There was a dichotomy in the way they watched the herds. New calves meant new life, meant more food for the wolves of the glacier, and here they were admiring them - not as hunter, but as some strange between.

Satori felt her own lips quirk as he parroted the phrase, leaning against him in acknowledgement. Although it was not the concrete answer she was after, the druid was content enough that Faust had taken her words to heart.

"Is there anything else on your mind?" She'd be here to listen, to advise him if needed.

faust exhaled, long and slow. the kind of sigh that came from deep within the chest, from a place where weariness had settled like stone.
winsook has nearly declared darukaal an enemy after everything.
his voice was low, rough around the edges. the weight of it pressed heavy on his shoulders.
svalla had played her game, and now the consequences teetered on the edge of war.
his green eyes remained on the herds below, watching the calves stumble after their mothers. new life. new beginnings.
but the glacier was not so kind. not to him.
i do not know how to fix this.
he was not a man who easily admitted doubt, but here, in the quiet with satori, he allowed the words to settle between them. he could feel her warmth where she leaned against him, steady, present.
he did not look at her yet, but his tail flicked once—a small, subconscious gesture.

An enemy? She stiffened, the fur beginning to rise on her spine as she grappled with the weight of all he said. Only now was it truly beginning to sink in the damage this Svalla had caused. The carelessness.

Satori had lived through war before. Seen the consequences, the death of her mother, and the mending of broken alliances in the form of marriage. Though it had been quickly dashed to pieces by her own reckless advances, the druid was loath to see violence befell the glacier. Not more than it already had. Not if there was another way.

"I could speak to Winsook, negotiate another agreement to suit both packs, if this alliance is something you want saving." She knew not what that might mean for Svalla. Her heart ached. "They may take more kindly to a woman." Would they? Had it not been a woman to cause this mess?

faust hummed, a low, considering sound.
it might be wise.
ayovi had been difficult—prideful, guarded, sharp as the cliffs she ruled. but she might take to a woman better, especially one with satori’s patience. perhaps there was still a path to salvage this.
but could satori make the journey? his green eyes flicked over her, taking in the way she carried herself. stronger than before, but still healing.
but are you well enough to travel?
it was not spoken with doubt, but with something else—concern, calculation. he would not send her if she could not withstand it, not when winter still clawed at the land, not when the glacier had already taken so much from her.
his gaze darkened, narrowing slightly. you will not go alone.
his decision was final, settled.
i will bring… gifts.
something to soften the edges of this meeting. something to remind winsook that darukaal was not only a force of war, but one of strategy.
because faust would not kneel.
but he would bargain, if it meant avoiding bloodshed. for now.

It was something that concerned her too, but for Darukaal's peace she would journey. She had to. "I'll take it slow," she promised, though her gilded eyes filled with a fiery independence. 

Faust would join her then, and perhaps it was for the best that she took a guard. In such a vulnerable state, she might easily be preyed upon by those not adhering to the treaty. Like Svalla. Like the strange caribou woman of before. 

"We'll call for them halfway, in neutral territory. Larksong Grotto ought to do." He wished to bring gifts? Satori felt some of the tension ease as she stretched her three working legs in turn. "Perhaps Winsook has a taste for oxen calf." A smile then, a jest, but the druid would not interfere with his pleasantries if it meant the meeting might be more cordial.

faust huffed, amusement flickering in his sharp green eyes as he pushed himself to his feet.
you're full of good ideas, aren't you?
his voice carried the barest edge of approval, a rare thing, but not insincere. larksong grotto was a smart choice. neutral ground. controlled. and if winsook wanted blood, faust would make damn sure it was not theirs.
his muscles rolled beneath his dark coat as he stretched, readying himself. satori’s jest earned a short exhale of breath—not quite a laugh, but close enough.
then let’s get them one.
he turned toward the herd, eyes locking onto the calves, their legs still too unsure beneath them. an easy hunt. a necessary one.
his gaze flicked to satori once more, lingering just a moment longer. she would travel. he would ensure it was not alone.
without another word, faust moved, the conversation fading into the silence of the hunt.