Deepwood Weald giggle at a funeral

kalyska had been paused quietly among the frost-kissed grasses, her hazel gaze tilted skyward. the faint sound of approaching paws had reached her ears long before the greeting, and when the voice finally broke the stillness, she turned her head, studying the stranger with measured curiosity.  

evening, she replied softly, her voice carrying the gentleness of the snow-laden night. her tail brushed the ground behind her as she regarded him—a wolf with a warm presence, a ready smile, and a name that suited his charm.  

beautiful, she murmured, casting a brief glance skyward before meeting his gaze again. i kalyska from forneskja. her lips curved faintly, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.  

she shifted slightly, her posture open but reserved, as though uncertain how much of herself to offer. stars shine bright, more than usual. must feel joy of watching union. her tone was light, but there was a subtle undercurrent of something deeper—perhaps curiosity, or perhaps the weight of a past she was not yet ready to share.