Herbalists' Cache futurama

star eater hums, content in the shared warmth, her muzzle resting briefly against gjalla's temple as if to seal the promise between them. the wind bites at their backs, but together, it hardly matters. they’ve always endured storms better side by side.
then wait you shall, she whispers, voice low and fond, the words carried like a vow on the cold air. and they will know you, know us both. i’ll make sure of it. her gaze follows gjalla’s to the horizon, where the pale world stretches unbroken, and for a moment she pictures it—stormrift banners flying high, her babes trailing behind her like little shadows, knowing they belonged not just to her, but to something greater.
she chuckles, deep and soft. you speak as if there is an easy path, she teases, leaning into gjalla’s nudge with a grin. i have yet to see it. perhaps we are cursed to always carve our own way.
her eyes gleam then, touched with mischief and something weightier beneath. but we make do, she echoes, voice stronger this time, steady as the ice beneath their paws. and we always will, my stargirl.