Firefly Glen Scoping it out

Looking for anyone— hopefully a recruit for Forneskja <3

the glen was quiet in the way a well-loved place often was — not silent, but soft. birdsong stitched through the early light, threading golden strands through the tallgrass. the brook hummed somewhere deeper in the woods, its voice old and content.
solharr moved with unhurried ease.
his heavy paws pressed into damp earth, the scent of pine and fern clinging to his coat. the sky was open above him, cloudless and vast. behind him lay the quarry, his wife, and the strange bloom of peace that had taken root in his chest. for once, there were no troubles gnawing at the edges of his mind, no blood on the wind.
he paused at a bend in the trail, lifting his head to taste the breeze. no threat. no stranger. only the whisper of birds and the memory of her laughter still curled in his ears.