Neverwinter Forest dannsair sìthiche

sólhárr watched his elska step forward with the poise and grace he had come to admire, her voice steady as she addressed the stranger. her fox furs shifted gently as she moved, catching his eye, and with a quiet reverence, he let his nose brush against the softness of them. it was a gesture that spoke volumes without words—a grounding touch, an unspoken affirmation of his love and pride.

his gaze shifted to the woman before them, her murmured reverence for their words lingering in the air like the last notes of a fading melody. he remained silent for a moment, letting callyope's questions stand without interruption. her tone was gentle yet pointed, as it so often was—a balance of compassion and curiosity that sólhárr knew would draw out the truth.

seiðkona asks well, he added after a breath, his voice a deep rumble. the forest calls many, but it is not all who answer rightly.

his amber eyes, sharp yet not unkind, lingered on the stranger, waiting. he could feel the steady presence of callyope beside him, a warmth that reminded him this was not only his decision to make. together, they would decide if this woman’s spirit belonged among their own.