Firefly Glen morgunsól

Kalyska didn’t flinch under his gaze, though the weight of it pressed against her like a challenge she refused to yield to. with steady paws, her movements careful but efficient she used the clean snow to clean the wound. Clean wound avoid illness she said in a soothingly, practiced tone. His questions still hung in the air between them, stark and cold as the winter wind. 

No pack, she answered finally, her voice quiet but firm, like a stone worn smooth by years of hardship.

Her hazel eyes flicked up to meet his golden one, a flicker of pain shadowing her resolve before she looked away. Fire took everything. The words were simple, but the way they caught in her throat betrayed the depth of the loss.

white snow became stained red as dirt that clung to the badgers claw begun to detach from the wound. she took her focus towards a bank were bare remnants of a plant grew. yarrow. 

she finished cleaning the wound before lifting herself onto her paws, her breath clouding in the frigid air. Alone since then, she admitted, her tone almost dismissive, as if the ache of solitude wasn’t worth acknowledging. No family, home. Just this.

her gaze returned to him, sharper now, with a quiet defiance that burned beneath the surface. But alone no mean weak. voice softened, a touch of vulnerability breaking through the edge. We do what we must to survive. Even if means in snow patching strangers.

her lips curved in the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Now, stay. Yarrow near helps with bleeding. on that note, she determinedly went to retrieve the plant hoping one of the trees would grace her with resin.