Firefly Glen ⧏ anuyautaitchuk ⧐

Agana stood at the edge of the gathering, half-wrapped in shadow where the low sun filtered through the evergreens. The voices of celebration swelled like a tide around her, joyous, familial, warm, but she remained still, poised like a statue carved from pale stone. Her gaze found Arrluk easily, pride in every step he took, and then Ajei beside him, radiant. She smiled, truly and softly, for them.
But it ached. Not for what she lacked, no; she had long learned not to wish for other lives. But standing here, watching the moonwomans son take a mate with the eyes of a man grown and the spirit of his lineage in him… it stirred something quiet in her. Something that curled beneath her ribs like an old flame flickering in the cold.
She had watched from afar; always from afar. A breath, slow and steady; she bowed her head, a gesture of respect, of blessing. And then her eyes, briefly, wandered through the crowd, skimming over laughter and warmth until they caught the familiar silhouette of flame; Aiolos. Her breath hitched, but she did not let herself meet his gaze. Instead, her attention shifted, gliding over the mated pair in a silent offering of grace, then pausing upon the moonwoman. Still, Agana did not move, her posture poised and unmoving, as if carved from the very silence she kept.