Firefly Glen I wasn't there, but I know

Morwenna’s heart tightened at the soft, drowsy plea, so small and vulnerable as it brushed her fur. Slowly, carefully, she lowered her head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Anatolia’s crown, as if sealing her vow with the touch. Her breath lingered there, a quiet anchor, before she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper, warm and resolute.

I'm right here. she murmured, her words carrying a weight that made them feel like stone-set truth. Morwenna’s gaze softened, filled with a deep, maternal care she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in what felt like lifetimes. In the silence that followed, she stayed perfectly still, letting Anatolia settle closer if she wished, promising through touch and presence that, for now, there would be no leaving.

In her heart, she knew the familiar ache of loss and loneliness all too well, and as she held the pup close, she silently vowed that Anatolia would never feel the same—not while Morwenna’s breath remained.

You must be hungry.