Neverwinter Forest there's no crowds in the street,

and he is watching as her eyes search his, as if scanning them for something more, something that lingered deep within them. and if she would find it, she would see the river of scarlet that had stained the mountains red, and the terror and the pain that the guardian of the moongrove had tried so hard to conceal. but not only was their a past, a history that glimmered from his tired eyes, there was also a present, and a future. one of a blooming warmth that he could not quite explain - but he held faith for forneskja, that much he knew to be true. and her words meet the ears of he who is always listening.

íruna thanks him, her words a whisper, carried forth by the winds and the gods that guide them. he gives a dip of his head, ever humble. when rökkur rises, he can see the thoughts flickering behind her gaze, sparking like embers upon a cold snow. her cold, black nose meets his shoulder, and so the lorekeeper dares to touch his own to the crown of her head, the space between her ears, breathing her in and keeping hold of this memory, if only for a little while. he is gentle with the strokes of his nose against her head when she shudders, akin to a dam comforting her lamb. i will find you, comes his promise.

when he pulls away, it is with great reluctance, though he gives the woman before him one last nod before he murmurs goodnight, íruna úthafskari, and brushes against her as he weaves his way through the trees towards his den. he does not know it, yet. rökkur is not aware of what their king plans for them, but there is a chance, small and yet present nonetheless, that the den he now travels towards will soon hold two.

i need more of them !!! asap !!! ... tfw you dont even know youre betrothed but even if you did find out you wouldnt even be mad