Silver Moraine multieyed raven

hope stirs like a coal fanned to life, glowing under the cold wind that had nearly snuffed it. for all his disappointment, he finds himself nodding, steady and sure, because this—this was something worth waiting for.
two moons, faust repeats, voice low but warmer now, like the promise means something real. his brother’s paw on his shoulder anchors him, and faust leans into it, solid and certain. i’ll hold you to that.
his gaze drifts to the glacier, then back to tvar, and a rare, crooked smile edges across his face. bring the whole lot of ’em. your wife, your pups. there’ll be room. darukaal’s strong. they’ll grow up knowing what it means to have a name worth keeping.
he exhales slow, the frost curling between them.
blood’s thicker than ice.
and in that, faust feels something loosen in his chest. something like belonging. something like home.