Neverwinter Forest get on up again,

sólhárr’s gaze lingered on luhtar, his expression unreadable but steady, like the roots of the great trees around them. the younger wolf’s words carried a rare humility, and that earned the faintest glimmer of approval in the hárkonungr’s icebound eyes.

then you should seek rökkur, sólhárr said, his voice low and deliberate, like the deep hum of the forest itself. he is the seiðmaður. he listens to the spirits and hears what others cannot. he will teach you. but you must be patient, luhtar. the ways of forneskja are not for those who rush.

he paused, letting the quiet forest hold them for a moment, the whispers of the wind through the canopy a gentle reminder of the unseen forces at play. this place does not demand perfection, only respect, he added, his tone softening slightly.

his head tilted slightly as he regarded luhtar. tell me—what do you wish for your place here to be? what role do you see for yourself among us? the question hung between them, an invitation for the younger wolf to shape his own path within forneskja’s sacred bounds.