Moonstone Quarry And I pray that I'll make it before the night's up

solharr was already watching her, his single eye steady and calm in the dim light. the night had been long, too long for his taste. her restlessness had pulled him from his own rest, and now, with the softness of her voice ringing in his ears, he stood at her side.

you were dreaming, he rumbled low, his voice smooth like gravel in the cold air. there was no judgment in his tone, no harshness—just the quiet assurance of a presence that would not falter.

he stepped closer, his massive frame casting a shadow over her. his one eye softened as he watched the flicker of unease cross her face. a pause, before his words came again, a comforting balm to the tension rising in the air between them.

it’s alright now, he murmured, his voice wrapping around her like the warmth of the furs. you’re safe.

he lingered there for a moment, not wanting to push too far, but not leaving either. his presence, solid and unwavering, stood as a silent reassurance. he couldn't see the darkness of her dreams, but now, in the waking world, he would be there.