Herbalists' Cache hoof trap

star eater turns her head, the weight of his crown pressing to her side grounding her in a way little else could. her gaze traces the snowline beyond their shelter, to the pines, the sky—far, far beyond this small place they carved for themselves.
nothing is ever truly mine, she echoes softly, but there is no sorrow in it. only the quiet truth of a woman who has lived long enough to understand the shape of possession. these children are ours. the land is yours. and i am yours as wife.
and she means it—not as some small, wilted surrender, but as something firm. something safe. to be part of something greater than herself. to belong. her father’s halls had been cold, full of power but empty of comfort. here… at least here, there was warmth.
she allows him to drape the hide over her shoulders, nuzzling briefly into the fur. into him. the gesture stirs a rare, gentle smile from her. she falls into step beside him easily, walking beneath the expanse of the glacier sky.
uuts'taa is trying, she admits, voice quieter now. considering. so is nehzuunxel. they want to be lanzadoii, even if they do not know what that means yet. her eyes flick toward him, studying the shape of his face beneath the starlight. you might like him. if you give him the chance.
and maybe—just maybe—she hopes he will. for her sake. for all of theirs.