Overture Downs winds of east

morwenna watched, her breath shallow, as the hide tore away under sun eater's practiced jaws. the sound, wet and sharp, sent shivers along her spine, though whether from unease or awe, she could not tell. the smell of blood was thick, cloying, wrapping itself around them like an unseen shroud.

when he turned to her, hide clutched in his teeth, she froze, starlit eyes locking with his singular one. his movements were swift, deliberate—tempestuous, even—and the bloodied pelt settled across her shoulders with a heaviness that was more than its weight.

her chest tightened as the chill of the air was replaced by the unexpected warmth of the caribou’s hide. her breath left her in a thin cloud, dissipating into the cold as her teeth instinctively found the edges of the pelt, pulling it closer around her.

she did not speak. she could not.

her gaze stayed locked on sun eater, taking in the ragged rhythm of his breath, the crimson staining his fur, and the stoic set of his features. she thought to ask him what this gesture meant but found the words lodged firmly in her throat, unable to breach the space between them.

instead, she let the silence speak. her grip on the hide tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she closed her eyes. the warmth that seeped into her was not just from the pelt—it was something primal, something alive.

when her eyes reopened, they softened, and her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. you honor me? she asked at last, though whether she spoke of him or herself, even she did not know.