Duskfire Glacier too late to stop

faust glanced down at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. the wind ruffled through his dark fur as they moved, tracing the edges of the ridge where the land stretched far below them. his claim was young, but it would hold. he would ensure that.
grand warden, he said simply, the title carrying weight, spoken like a vow. his duty was clear—to protect, to secure, to make certain no harm would come to what was his.
his eyes flicked back to her, watching her movements, the way she tucked her reservations close. you were lucky, he remarked, not unkind, but firm. wandering where you don’t belong doesn’t always end in good news.
but she was here now. his decision. his responsibility. the ridge had room for more hands, for those willing to learn its ways. but she would prove herself. they all would.