Dawnlark Plains ☾ déix̲

blackfell’s embrace settled into him like an old mantle reclaimed, one he had not realized he’d missed until it was wrapped around him again.
when they parted, steam curling from their bodies in heavy spirals, uktark’s eyes flicked over blackfell’s shoulder—
searching.
and finding her.
the moondancer stood where he had left her, bright as winter moonfall against the taiga. his gaze held hers for a brief moment, summoning her without a word: come. be beside me.
welcomed, woven into the gravity of his voice even in silence.
when she moved, he turned back to blackfell, their foreheads still nearly touching.
the faint snort he gave held something dangerous, fond, familiar.
you reek, he muttered, gravelled, almost a growl of affection. same as always.
snow clung to the thick fur along his shoulders, the momentum of their crashing reunion still vibrating faintly through him as he took the measure of the man before him—the strength, the breath, the presence.
and then the question cut through, low and direct.
where is gjalla?
uktark’s stare sharpened, something colder flickering beneath it.
a brother reunited, yes—
but also a man bracing for whatever truth blackfell carried back from the world he’d walked alone.