Whitefish River but I stay outside his reach

sólhárr huffed, his single golden eye narrowing as he studied her. the boundless cheer she exuded felt misplaced against the frostbitten backdrop of his world. his gaze was sharp, cutting through her cheerful grin as if searching for something deeper, something tangible.

hmph, he muttered, the sound heavy with skepticism. his tail flicked once, a deliberate gesture of challenge. he let the silence hang between them for a moment before speaking, his voice low and measured. what can you offer? forneskja is not for dreamers.

his gaze lingered, unyielding as he waited for her answer. she would need more than energy and charm to convince him. this was his home, his domain, and it demanded more than just eagerness from those who sought to tread its sacred ground.