Overture Downs winds of east

His words reached her ears, his voice low and edged with confidence, as sharp as the glint in his eyes. That smirk—whether it was pride some twisted plan, she couldn’t say—etched itself briefly into her mind. It suited him.

Morwenna's paws fell quietly into the indents Sun Eater left behind in the snow, her steps deliberate as she followed him closely. She watched his broad shoulders move with purpose, the command of a chieftain evident in every stride.

She wondered if he saw the purpose in her, the need to contribute, to prove herself. She would not falter, not now, not under his watch.

Her thoughts wandered to the pups—Violet, Buckthorn, Suzu's brood—all those young, vibrant lives. Because of him, because of this hunt, they would eat. Their bellies would be warm, their strength renewed. The image of their laughter, their satisfied fullness, tugged at her aching heart, and a flicker of gratitude bloomed amidst the cold that encased her.

And then, she faltered if only slightly. Falling a few steps behind, for a heartbeat as her thoughts shifted, unbidden, to the shadow of her father—a towering figure of stern discipline and unreachable expectations. She had spent her youth chasing the faint glimmer of his approval, her every achievement met with either cold indifference or a curt nod that spoke of obligations met, never affection earned. She hated him for it, and yet, deep in the recesses of her heart, she craved that same steady presence—a male figure helmed in undeniable masculinity, someone whose approval could mend the fractures she bore.

 Sun Eater, with his resolute stride and the certainty in his words, reminded her of all she had once sought. Perhaps, if he deemed her worthy, she might quiet that restless longing, if only for a while.