Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

His words offered a measure of comfort, and Kirain acknowledged their truth. The solitary habits ingrained during her time as a loner would be challenging to shed, but her determination was unwavering. With a resigned sigh, she inched towards the kill, her movements cautious to avoid aggravating her overworked muscles.

Leaning down, Kirain tore a chunk of meat from the raccoon, chewing thoughtfully as she contemplated her response. After swallowing, she met Wake's gaze, her voice soft but steady.

I hail from the far north, where snow is the land's constant companion. I belonged to a nomadic pack... A veil of sadness clouded her eyes as she offered a small, bittersweet smile. That was before the illness struck.

She let the words linger, their weight palpable in the air between them. Returning to the raccoon, she retrieved another mouthful, savoring not just the nourishment but the long-forgotten comfort of sharing a meal and conversation. Memories of hunts with her former pack flooded her mind, echoes of laughter and the warmth of camaraderie bound by shared blood.

I was younger then, Kirain continued, her voice barely above a whisper, apprenticing as a healer. I... I watched them all fade from this world, powerless to stop it. The pain of recollection etched itself across her features. My inexperience, my uncertainty, my fear, they all conspired against me. I failed them, and it's a burden I'll carry always. But I swear, I will do better.

The words seemed to physically pain her, yet she pressed on, driven by a deep-seated belief in honesty and transparency. She understood the vital importance of such openness in forging the bonds of trust and mutual reliance that would be crucial in the days to come.