Neverwinter Forest when the curtains call the time

íruna does not pause in her work, focused on the task at hand as she adjusts the wrappings on pangur's leg. her touch is firm yet gentle; she will mend what needs mending. the faintest smile flickers at pangur's jest, but it fades into a more thoughtful expression.

my father believed his daughter should be no less skilled than his sons, she speaks with a strong voice. he trained me in the art of combat, as he did them. but my mother—she believed a woman should know how to heal, to mend the wounds of others and her own.

her movements remain fluid, precise, as she secures the wrappings. my grandmother was a shieldmaiden—a warrior of great renown. my mother said if i chose to follow her path, so be it, but i would not walk it blindly. i would carry the wisdom of nature’s bounty, the knowledge of what it offers to those who seek it.

íruna straightens then, her gaze lifting to meet pangur’s hazel eyes. in the end, i chose both. shieldmaiden and healer. to protect and to restore. and now, i am here with you, pangur. fixing the leg of a warrior girl. she says with a light tease, pressing a warm kiss to the forehead of pangur.

there, you are done.