Moonstone Quarry dragonspine

Dawn had not yet fully broken, only brushed the world in palest silver, the stars retreating one by one into the softening sky. The quarry lay in hushed stillness, its stone-carved hollows bathed in mist, and the pools glimmered faintly as forgotten mirrors catching their last glimpse of night.
Aneira moved like a shadow stirred by wind, deliberate and silent. Each step was careful, though not hesitant; the earth here held memory beneath its surface, and she did not wish to disturb it carelessly. The morning air clung damp to her pelt, curling faint wisps of steam from her breath.
She was looking for the fire man; @Solharr.
The name lingered behind her teeth, unspoken but heavy. She didn’t call out; not yet. Instead, she listened, trusting the stone to carry any sign of him: a scrape of claw, a breath shifting the air, the steady rhythm of familiar steps. The frostmaiden witnessed other truths in him; quieter ones. The ghost of warmth beneath all that frost.
Aneira paused beside one of the shallower pools, pale eyes sweeping across the hollow. The reflection that met her gaze was not her own; it was younger, soot-smudged and full of ash, just for a moment, until the wind scattered the illusion.