Neverwinter Forest Keep the knife close while you sleep.

sólhárr stepped forward, pressing his nose firmly to glaukos’s shoulder, a gesture that marked him as kin of forneskja, letting the scent of the land settle upon him like an oath. he watched as glaukos spoke, brow arching at his parting words—a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

you be surprised, he replied, voice laced with dry humor, a man of strength knows when to listen to a woman… and when to make sure his own word is the one that carries. he chuckled, a low sound that carried the weight of both amusement and certainty.

but worry not, he added, his tone almost teasing, forneskja’s roots hold steady. i got no intention of letting anyone—wife, mother,—unseat my place.

with that, sólhárr inclined his head, watching glaukos as he moved on, knowing the man would come to see forneskja as more than just a forest—it was a legacy, one that welcomed strength as much as it demanded loyalty.

fade here! if you'd like another one, feel free to ping me ^^