Moonstone Quarry hits the six, and it's summer

“Yes, I am Forneskjan.” he admitted after a beat, his voice low but steady, tinged with his usual roughness. There was no point in denying it outright; Rökkur was sharp enough to see through any half-hearted deflection. “And I did follow you.”

His yellow eyes met Rökkur’s, holding the other wolf’s gaze for a moment before shifting back to the pools. The moonlight danced on their surfaces, casting faint, wavering reflections onto the walls of the crater. It was beautiful, though Luhtar wouldn’t have been the type to say so aloud.

“I wasn’t trying to interrupt,” he added, his voice quieter now, lacking its usual edge. “You don’t see things like this often. Places like this. It’s... different.” He gestured vaguely with his muzzle, his words struggling to keep pace with his thoughts.

Rökkur’s disapproval lingered in the air, and Luhtar shifted his weight slightly, his posture loosening but not retreating. There was a part of him that wanted to apologize, to explain himself more fully, but the words felt awkward and unnecessary. Instead, he settled for honesty, or at least as close to it as he could manage.

“You are our Sögumaðr. The keeper of our history, our peoples.” His gaze flicked back to Rökkur, his tone carrying the faintest note of curiosity. “That’s why I followed you. Not to bother you. I wish to speak. It is late... I cannot sleep.” His ears tilted forwards, twitching with an air of decency.

"I will leave if you wish."