Phoenix Maplewood white winter hymnal

sega stood a little ahead of callahan now, not blocking the woman, but anchoring the space in a way that made the boundaries clear and calm. snow whispered along his spine as he listened, the faint crease of his brow the only sign he noted her slip of the tongue.

hn. no one chase you, he said, quiet but certain. not here. not this close to my land.

a slow sweep of his gaze across the empty woods, then back to her — steady, not prying.

many run. many rest, he added, a simple truth. you do same.

he didn’t ask what she fled. wolves who needed safety rarely wanted to say. instead, he angled slightly to the side, giving her more room, showing he meant no trap, no corner.

callahan’s presence remained warm at his flank, and sega gave him a brief nod before returning his attention to the stranger.

snow heavy today, he said, softer. travel after rest. no eyes follow you from us.