Moonstone Quarry The wolf that always seeks his own kind

solharr turns swiftly at the sound of kukutux's voice, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he watches her approach. the weight of the foxpelt around his nape feels heavier in the moment, an offering from one of their own now gone. yet as kukutux draws nearer, solharr's eyes brighten despite the ache in his chest. the quarry was not just a place—it was a promise, a beginning, and he was not alone in that.

you’ve come, solharr says, his voice warm, the edges of his smile genuine but tempered by the thoughts of the past.

his gaze flickers to the gathered gifts—herbs, meats, sacred pouches, all of it laid before him in a testament to her care and resolve. the woman had always been steadfast.

thank you, he adds, his voice softening for a moment before he lifts his eyes to meet hers. he comes to take the burdens of weight from her shoulders, and his amazed how a woman of her age can carry so much. when he, feels like he has lost it all.