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

sorry so late, we can close if you wish <3

his gaze, stormworn and scorched by the old gods, did not waver.
fleur’s words met him like sun on ice— melting something buried deep, something long refused. her paws were warm, softer than he thought he deserved. his own, worn and calloused from battle and prayer, stayed steady against her cheek. he searched her face, not for answers, but for truth. it was there, in the burn of her eyes. the ache. the belief. the ache with belief.
then bleed with me, solharr said, voice thick with gravel and something gentler underneath. his head dipped closer, muzzle brushing hers like the passing of cloud-shadow over snow. not as a wound. as a vow.
he did not speak of callyope. not now. she was sky, ever watching. she had already shaped him, and now the shape of him— scarred and sacred— stood before this woman who dared meet him with open hands.
i would carry your fire if you asked it, he murmured. i would be burned, and not call it pain.