Whitebark Stream moon knight

the open arid plains had been something she'd grown accustomed to; so when she turned to pull @Blackfell aside, she held the herbs from her encounter with veksar still in her jaws. she nodded with her head, gesturing for him to sit down, too.
injuries? she asked, also beginning to look over his scarred eye. the wound there had healed nicely, but it didn't stop her from nudging it with her nose, testing the scar tissue with the fissure of a canine tooth. it held, but she could offer him more.
a similar salve would be crafted for him— a dexterous herb that would help his immune system— and she had to remind herself that she wasn't doing this for him, only him, but gjalla as well. her infatuation with the man had grown, and she couldn't blame her star sister. he'd been rather persistent!
do you want him to stay? she gestured her head to the clearing where veksar waited.

injuries?

he is silent. a burning well beneath her scrutinizing touches. touching at him, her tooth pressing harshly against his eye, the scar that brands him. he says nothing, does nothing, makes no face; he is simply complacent beneath her prodding.

do you want him to stay?

there comes a grunt only a man could make in reply, his crimson eyes slowly adjusting to the closeness of her face. dawning memories of being a young man and his days being filled with the flowery presence of the realm's jewel.

i would not turn him away. that is his response. he cannot say for certain, because of his pride, that he wants veksar to stay. but dare anyone say that blackfell was not a man who bled for his family, who was moved if only by his kin. a crownore, through and through; the only exception being the cousins whom he loathed. he is my little brother. he knows not what he does.

she hummed, thoughtful as her gaze trailed after the younger crownore. the weight of blackfell’s words settled between them, familiar and expected. family was family, even when they wandered, even when they bit back.
it would not be a bad thing, she mused, eyes half-lidded in contemplation, to have another blackmarch boy here.
the saatsine were a hardened people, but there was strength in legacy, in bloodlines that stretched far and wide. she would not deny him if he chose to stay, nor would she push him away should he seek a different path. but it would be easier—simpler—if he remained.
her gaze flicked to blackfell again, measuring, knowing. perhaps you should tell him that, she murmured, a teasing note beneath the words, though there was something knowing there too. blackfell was a man of action, not sentiment. but she had seen it, the way blood still called to him.

he huffs at her comment. true enough, maybe. veksar was his brother and so that meant he could work. no man hailing from blackmarch was weak, in any sort of sense. but—

he speaks suddenly. but he is not a boy anymore. something they had both noticed. blackfell had not seen him in... gods, how long? it was nearing a year now. and how time had shaped veksar, turned him into a man; melted away puppy fat, lightened his fur with age.

his head tilts, offering her the bloodied scrapes that criss cross the side of his snout. for her to tend to, ever the attentive healer. he remembered when star eater was nothing more than a spoiled southern princess—and ever brought up, she would retort she was from the north—but no evenspire wolf knew what true north was.

he grits teeth when the salve stings his wounds. he cannot help but chuckle. you try. he raises a brow. see how it goes.

star eater hums softly, brushing a gentle touch along the fresh scrapes marring his muzzle. her touch is careful, practiced, though she does not coddle him. blackfell is not the type to be handled delicately, nor would he want to be.
he is not a boy anymore, she echoes, dabbing a mixture of crushed herbs along his wounds. the sting earns a slight twitch of his brow, but he does not pull away. but he is still your brother. there is something knowing in her tone, but she does not push further.
when he chuckles, she finds herself laughing too, the sound softer than usual. lighter. it feels strange, after all that has happened, but not unwelcome.
i will try, she concedes, tilting her head as she works. for your sake. a pause, and then, quieter, for gjalla.

blackfell’s jaw tightens as her herbs bite into his wounds. crimson eyes shift to hers when she speaks—for gjalla. it’s always her, isn’t it?

he grunts, the weight of the words sinking in. "she wouldn’t say it, but she needs family too," he mutters.

his gaze drifts back to the clearing where veksar waits, still bristling from their earlier clash. family. a pain in the ass, but necessary.

"he stays if he pulls his weight," he finalizes. "he’s blackmarch. he'll manage."

there is grudging acceptance in his eyes. the half knowing, sarcastic smile on his face. he wasn’t about to coddle his brother—or anyone... but he wouldn’t turn him away either.

star eater hummed, pressing the poultice deeper into his wounds, knowing the sting would keep him tethered to the moment.
a truth, but an old one. one they had all learned too young. she met his gaze when he spoke, searching, watching the weight settle in his bones.
so do you.
her lips curled, not unkindly, but knowingly. she had seen men like blackfell before—had learned to navigate their pride like a river of jagged stones.
he stays, she echoed, tilting her head toward the waiting shadow of veksar in the clearing. he is blackmarch, and that means something.
her smile turned wry. for your sake. for hers.
she wiped the excess herbs from her paws and stood, brushing against his shoulder as she moved past him, voice light as she added, and for my own amusement.

"always someone’s amusement," he mutters, his tone dry as he watches her move past him.

his gaze shifts again to veksar, standing stiff in the distance. blackmarch, and that means something. it’s a fact he can’t deny, no matter how much he wishes the boy had stayed behind.

he turns his eyes away, into the distance, overlooking the river in the distance. ears flattening.

exit blackfell cus exit star eater