Jade Fern Grove pilot

the air hangs heavy, almost stifling despite the sharp bite of frost. suliya moves cautiously, her steps measured, ears pivoting to catch every creak and whisper of the barren forest. the mist curls around her legs, clinging as if it might betray her approach. her pale eyes glint like shards of ice in the dim light, fixed on the figure ahead.

her nose twitches, taking in the faint scent of deer, long gone. but it is the wolf she sees that holds her attention now—a lone shadow in the winter-wrapped woods, stark against the stillness.

her breath mists as she exhales slowly, carefully. she steps closer, letting the crunch of her paws on the snow announce her presence without words. her frame is taut with readiness, not hostility, but a wary sort of preparation for whatever might follow.

you’re alone. her voice is quiet, almost swallowed by the thick air, but there is no malice in it—only observation. her gaze lingers on him, searching for signs of intent, though she does not yet close the space between them. cautious, as always, suliya waits.