Swiftcurrent Creek when the moon sang,

Gjalla’s breath caught for a moment as Morwenna’s words settled into the air. There was a tenderness in them, a quiet plea that she could feel deep in her bones. A husband of your own. Something that’s yours.

A husband of her own?

The idea was a foreign one, wrapped in a blanket of discomfort. The words echoed in her mind, an offer of something that seemed so distant that it almost felt unattainable. Undesirable. For a long while, she said nothing, her mind drifting to a faraway place, thoughts weaving in tangled threads. The idea of a path—of choosing something for herself—was one she hadn’t entertained in far too long, much less someone. Her life had been consumed by the responsibilities of others, by duty and survival.

Morwenna’s gentle nudge pulled her back, and she blinked, refocusing on the woman beside her. Her icy eyes softened, the walls she had so carefully constructed beginning to crack just a little. "I have everything I need right here." Gjalla said finally, her voice rough with something unspoken—anything to change the subject. She turned her head slightly, meeting Morwenna’s gaze with a resolute intensity.

"But you…" Gjalla hesitated, her gaze softening further. "You deserve everything you’re seeking, Morwenna. Everything. Don’t settle for less than what you’ve always wanted."

Her words were firm, but there was a warmth to them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the journey they both still had ahead—of finding the freedom to be untamed, yet never alone.