Swiftcurrent Creek whats comes next,

Morwenna lingered in the stillness, savoring the quiet solace of Akavir's presence. Her jaw worked the moss mindlessly over his shoulder, securing it with care. The task was simple, grounding, and it steadied the tumult in her chest. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but resolute.

I’ll stay, she said, glancing back to him. Arric and Arlette— she paused, her lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile—they’re far too happy right now to be incurred by other factors. Someone has to rise to the task, and it might as well be me.

Her tone carried a gentle finality, as if her mind had long since settled on the matter. She wouldn’t disturb the peace of others, not when she had strength left to offer. It was her duty, her choice, and one she embraced without hesitation.

When Akavir asked, his voice low and weighted, what he could do, Morwenna hesitated only a moment. She turned fully to face him, her icy eyes locking onto his, filled with both the weight of grief and the clarity of purpose.

Stop this, she said firmly, her voice cracking ever so slightly. Stop the violence. Think of the children. Whatever it takes.

The words were as much a plea as they were a command. Her gaze searched his face, willing him to see the depths of her conviction. She could bear many burdens, but the cycles of bloodshed—those had to end. For their sake, for the sake of those who would come after. For the sake of hope.