Firefly Glen barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings

It was a loaded question, the stranger asked—though he never would have known it. She pondered the ideals she had always longed for—hearth, home, family. Morningside had burned, and her gaze drifted to the cold mountains, knowing the memories that lay on its other side. “No,” she finally whispered, clearing her throat after, trying to rid any hint of emotion that threatened to reveal itself. It was simply a story she wanted only to hold close to her heart for now.

“I only know of the Neverwinter Forest pack,” she offered, her fiery gaze shifting back to him, a delicate brow arching. “I’m from across the mountains. And Stjor…” She swung her muzzle to study him a moment, a flitting smile forming to her lips before dropping. “I’m not quite sure.” She had asked Sol before, yet he had not understood her to respond. And she had deemed it unimportant. For they were here now.