Neverwinter Forest Moon, a hole of light

sólhárr let a gentle hum escape him, a low, soothing sound that blended with the quiet of dawn. he pressed his muzzle softly along her shoulder, continuing the gentle rhythm of his grooming as she stirred, half-awake and still nestled in the warmth of their shared space.

já, he murmured in answer to her tired question, the old word rolling from his tongue like a soft promise, filling the morning air between them. her touch found him, and he leaned into it, steady and grounding, content to stay a while longer in the tender silence that was uniquely theirs.

when the quiet had settled, sólhárr’s voice softened, curious yet thoughtful. tell me, he began, his breath warm against her fur, what are your marriage traditions? his eyes held a flicker of interest, as though eager to weave her customs into the life they were building together. how would you have it done?

it mattered to him to know, to honor the ways that shaped her, even as they created something of their own in this land.