Swiftcurrent Creek whats comes next,

Morwenna froze at his words, the gathering herbs trembling slightly in her grip. Her shoulders tensed, and when she turned to face him, her expression was a mix of frustration and sorrow. It's not enough! she snapped, the words leaving her lips with a sharpness she rarely used.

The moment the words hung in the air, her eyes widened, and the tension in her frame gave way to an immediate apology. I’m sorry, she stammered, her voice softer, wavering. I didn’t mean— She stopped herself, closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath.

This was too familiar, this helplessness. Memories pressed against her mind, unwelcome and painful. Her past, filled with echoes of grief and failure, hovered too close, and she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

She opened her eyes again, steady now, though the weariness lingered in her gaze. What would you like me to do, Akavir? she asked quietly, her tone gentle once more. I’m acquainted with the Saatsine chieftain 'caribou hunters'… Perhaps they would listen to me if I reached out. I can go where you need me—assist with the patrols, watch for the boy.

She trailed off, the question in her eyes plain. Whatever you decide, I will follow. With the herbs she had managed to collect, she creates a salve. It's pasty, but will hold with a patch of moss between her feet.

Hold still, she came closer to him, breath hitching. Please.