Moonstone Quarry I won't let you go, I feel it in my bones

the storm had always been a thing he’d weathered.
but never like this.
never so gentle. never with eyes like hers.

solhárr stood still beneath the weight of her reaching, the wind curling around them both like some ancient witness. her paw against the side of his face felt like warmth pressed into stone — something he had never allowed, never dared to keep. yet she did not tremble at the jagged half of him. her gaze did not shift from the scars.

and so he did not flinch.

her words fell like soft rain across dry earth. each one soaked in, unsettling the quiet bastion of his heart. he had not meant to be a dream for her. he had only meant to keep her alive. yet here she was, offering him something he could not name, something that shook him deeper than any wound ever had.

his paw came up, heavy and scarred, to rest lightly over her own.

then dream with me, came the low murmur at last, no louder than wind through old pine.