Duskfire Glacier ever since i was a kid,

he listens.
for once, she does not bite, and he doesn’t brace for it.
just sits in the stillness between her words, letting them soak into the wearied leather of his bones.
his eyes stay on the horizon—dark, endless, unmoving. he doesn’t speak right away. not out of hesitation, but because he’s sifting through the weight of her honesty.
i don’t doubt darukaal, he says finally, voice low and even. i doubt what happens to it when i'm gone.
he exhales, the breath sharp in the cool air.
it's not just battle anymore. it’s boys like kaelith still half-grown, bloodthirsty and eager to prove something. girls like you, who think they're broken, but aren’t. he cuts her a glance then, brief but certain. and it’s me—sitting in rooms instead of fighting in the snow. telling wolves who to trust when i don’t know if i trust anyone but the few.
his shoulder presses into hers a moment longer than playful. steady. grounding.
but you're right. the man you knew wouldn't give in to that.
a faint smirk tugs at his lip, tired but there. so neither will this one.