Lost Creek Hollow my light

the weight of his words settled into her chest, heavy but not unwelcome. her pale eyes flickered briefly to him, searching for something unsaid in his singular gaze. her breath lingered in the cold air between them before she nodded, accepting the gravity of his command.

then i will wait for your call, she murmured, her voice steady though her heart beat with an unfamiliar rhythm. patience was not her strength, but for this, for him, she would find it. and i am your willing bride.

her gaze drifted beyond him to the herd he had brought her to, the caribou grazing quietly in the early light. their presence was grounding, a tether to the path she was beginning to walk. she studied them, their quiet strength, their belonging, and felt the faint stirrings of something she could not yet name.

her head tilted slightly, her voice softer now, yet edged with steel. prove that you will fight for me to them, the creek wolves, she said, her gaze returning to his. it was not a challenge, but a promise she sought in return for her patience, for her trust. they must see the strong man i have chosen.