Duck Lake doublemeat palace

morwenna followed the woman’s gesture, her pale eyes tracing the line of the distant mountain against the sky. her gaze lingered, thoughtful, as memories stirred unbidden. she could almost feel the cool press of the sea winds against her fur, hear the rhythm of the waves crashing against the shores of evenspire—a time when her own village had stood strong.

her silence stretched between them, but it was not unfriendly. instead, it carried a quiet reverence for the moment, for the lake, and for the white woman whose gaze seemed lost in something deeper.

the mountains, morwenna murmured finally, her voice low, more to herself than the other. they see everything, hold it all.

she thought to ask more, about this village, about the life the woman had left behind or perhaps still lived, but the words felt heavy on her tongue. instead, she let the weight of her musings settle into the stillness, sharing the quiet reverie of the lake.