Bitterroot Valley [m] mourning dove

star eater says nothing.
she watches.
the tension between the brothers hums like a taut wire, sharp and fraying at the edges. she does not move, does not interrupt. her misted eyes flick between them, quiet, unreadable.
veksar bristles, blackfell squares his shoulders, and star eater remains still—an unmoving force in their storm.
a long pause. a slow breath. then, finally, her voice, low and steady.
you are here now.
nothing more. nothing less.