Dawnlark Plains please don't dress in black when you're at his wake

her ears lifted, her expression warm as the woman took the leaves, one by one. not rushed. not afraid. careful.
wise.
silatuyok watched her with quiet approval—her posture respectful, her presence calm. and when the other finally ate, when she swallowed and the world did not end, only softened, a small nod passed through the pale healer.
a smile bloomed slow across her face, soft as snow melting beneath spring light.
she lifted a paw, placed it lightly to her chest.
silatuyok.
then, pointing to the woman with a gentle tilt of her chin.
you?
her voice held no pressure. no weight. just the steady warmth of one who had seen many faces—and remembered those who dared to share their names.