Swiftcurrent Creek sweetest thing to ever exist,

Morwenna dipped her head toward Arlette in warm acknowledgment, her gaze softening as she looked from her to the wolf beside her, allowing a hint of pride to shine through her usually reserved demeanor.

Arlette, meet Gjalla, she introduced, her voice steady yet carrying a touch of the solemn reverence reserved for old kin. She is no stranger to me—she comes as both ally and kin, one whose strength and loyalty have seen her through many paths.

Her eyes flicked between the two, a spark of encouragement lingering in their depths. She seeks to stand with us, if you’d have her.

The words, simple yet weighted with meaning, hinted at Morwenna’s own hopes for unity and trust among them.