Black Morass her body

ione’s voice softened as she finished her melody, the notes lingering in the still air like a gentle mist. her pale eyes turned to irene, the reverend mother’s expression warm, almost maternal, as she acknowledged the younger wolf’s presence.
irene, she greeted with a dip of her head, the sound of the name rolling off her tongue like a quiet benediction. you walk so quietly, child. even the morass did not announce you.
her gaze swept the bronze woman, taking in the subtle tension in her frame, the faint marks of unease etched into her expression. how does the morass treat you? she asked, stepping closer, her voice low and full of quiet inquiry. do you find its waters kind, or do they test your patience?