Swiftcurrent Creek when the moon sang,

morwenna swallowed hard, her gaze dropping as silence curled between them like smoke. the words sat heavy on her tongue before she dared to speak them aloud, her voice quieter than usual. a man has... wooed me.

her ears twitched, her shoulders stiff as though bracing for an unseen force. he gave me a pelt. her tone wavered, a flicker of something almost tender threading through the admission. he cares.

she fell silent again, the confession hanging in the air like a fragile thread. but then her voice returned, firmer, though laced with a vulnerable edge. i cannot go through what i did before. i must— she hesitated, swallowing once more, —i must choose my own husband.

her eyes finally lifted to meet gjalla’s, searching for understanding, though she knew no one else could fully carry the weight of this choice for her.