Haunted Wood there is a light

sólhárr lingered in the shadows of coal-streaked trees, watching her—a creature of warm hues and soft waves, gleaming like desert fruit against the ash and stone. his breath stilled, and a faint glint entered his eyes. not often he’d seen one painted in sunlight shades, nor one so still beside prey. the deer sipped water, oblivious, as she did the same, a curious balance between hunter and hunted.

with heavy, deliberate steps, he emerged from his cover, coming closer until the river lapped gently between them. a single, brazen word slipped from him, low and rough.

thirsty?

he dipped his head, not taking his eyes off her, barely sparing the deer a glance. eyes like morning’s first light, though he noted a fierceness there, and he found his own blood stirring. sólhárr kept his posture tall, not challenging but solid, firm like the earth itself, steady like he’d always been. she reminded him of faraway tales—lands of heat, fierce light, and survival.

desert fruit, he muttered, voice soft, as he'd dub her by appearance. he nodded to the deer, a touch of admiration for her restraint, for her strange choice to let it drink, let it be.

strong one, hm? his words were simple, yet his gaze spoke more: curiosity, challenge, perhaps even a touch of respect for her silent strength.