Firestone Hot Springs [m] newly

sólhárr exhaled slow, steady. her words were a balm, her kisses an anchor. his hands—his teeth, his spirit—had carved out the path they walked, but she, she was the one who gave it breath.

he pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes for a brief moment, letting the weight of her words settle into his bones. a son to fill his place. a legacy written in blood and sacrifice.

then let them whisper of us long after we are gone, he murmured, voice low, rough with something unspoken. his fingers trailed through the dampness of her fur, reverent. let them know our names, know what we built—what we bled for.

his golden gaze found hers again, something fierce, something tender. but not yet, callyope. a smirk, sharp and fond. not for many, many moons.