Herbalists' Cache rook's rest

morwenna moved with care, each step silent but sure in the snow, like a queen who knew the weight of what followed her. and behind her, ayovi—a woman she had once met with quiet fondness, whose presence now stirred something more complicated.
i must apologize, she began, voice hushed but steady, turning her head just enough for their eyes to meet, for raising my voice at your husband.
a pause. she breathed out, not shame, but restraint.
it was not proper. especially not beside his wife.
the apology hung in the cold air, honest, but still cloaked in her pride. morwenna did not offer apologies often, but she was not above them when they were due.
before them, the snow parted gently to reveal the mouth of the den. she gestured toward it, letting the stillness speak for a moment as the hush of infant breath pulsed faintly from within.
you were kind to us, when we first met, she said next, softer. you did not have to be. but you were. and for that— her voice thinned just slightly, but her words did not fail—thank you.
morwenna stood guard beside the shelter like a lioness beside her cubs. poised. proud. but not cold. never to the women who walked with dignity. her eyes found ayovi’s once more.