Neverwinter Forest living on a promised word

solharr nods slowly, his one eye assessing the man with quiet understanding.

his posture remains calm, unfazed by ezra’s calculated response. there was nothing to prove here—not now, not to a stranger who carried his own weight.

you are welcome, solharr responds, his voice steady, devoid of any veiled meaning. may your paws be as strong as your word. with a swift turn, he leads the way, the quiet of the land around them only broken by the soft crunch of paws on frost. the camp awaits, and the rhythm of survival continues—no promises, no strings, just the understanding that each one must carry their own burden in the end.