Overture Downs I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour

Morwenna approached slowly, her voice low, carrying the gentle, lilting cadence of her earlier song. She took in the sight of the stranger—matted with mud, wounded, yet somehow regal in her disarray, a strange beauty hidden beneath the dirt and weariness. She stopped a few lengths away, her own gaze softened with both curiosity and concern.

Are you alright? Morwenna asked, her words laced with a quiet warmth. Her head tilted, considering the gaunt she-wolf. That fall looked rather… unforgiving. There was no judgment in her tone, only a hint of sympathy and a spark of gentle humor, trying to ease the tension in the air.

If you need a place to catch your breath, Morwenna continued, stepping a bit closer, I can keep watch while you rest, just for a little while. No need to worry—I'm alone. She hoped her tone would reassure the wary she-wolf; there was no threat here, just an offer.