Whitebark Stream mathron

we can fade in your next post maybe?

The Wraith did not lift his head immediately. He stood over the still-warm carcass, breath low, steady, fangs slick with the effort of the kill. The silence that followed Gjalla’s words settled between them as snow; cold, but not empty. It was not given lightly, and he did not take it as such.
Astier’s ears twitched once in acknowledgment, his pale gaze flicking to her only briefly before falling back to the beast at his paws.
„…Nothing will be wasted.”
He spoke it plainly, but there was weight behind it, more than duty, more than habit. It was belief. He had seen what became of those who disrespected the cost. With a final glance to Gjalla, he lowered his head again, teeth working with practiced precision.