Firestone Hot Springs 'cause i'm through, when the two

Y’var’la’s gaze lingered on Rökkur as he emerged from the water. Her sharp eyes flicked to the way his pelt darkened further with the water, how the steam curled around him like smoke around embers, lending a strange aura to the moment. There was no judgment in her expression, though she could feel the unspoken burden in his sigh.

"A noble pursuit, even for a wolf of shadows. Perhaps especially for a wolf of shadows." The remark was quiet, tinged with a sincerity that didn’t often find its way into her tone. Growth was something she could understand—a quiet ache for change, for transformation, even as the weight of the past clawed at one's heels.

When his curiosity turned toward her, she let out a faint hum of consideration, her gaze briefly drifting to the waters before returning to meet his own. "By fleeing from the previous, of course," she mused, her tone shifting, playfully evasive at first. "My arrival here was no accident."

"I hail from the south—a place ruled by greed and ambition. My family was... prominent—influential. But with influence comes expectation, and with expectation comes... suffocation. It was not a place for wolves who dream of carving their own path."


Her eyes glimmered faintly, as though she found some amusement in her words. "Not quite as red a past as yours, perhaps, but problematic all the same."