Neverwinter Forest Bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Cat tag for ref!

Day by day she weakened. Seastorm gave little outward sign of it; if anyone noticed it was only the bounty hunter, and only because he spent so much time in proximity to her. Even so, she hid her decline from @Catamaran as much as the others. Pride, perhaps. She didn't linger on the whys.

Instead she focused on strengthening herself in the ways that she could. She ate and rested dutifully; she kept to her patrols of their small section of the forest; she studied Catamaran daily, always seeking those soft spots she sensed in him. Now more than ever, the bounty hunter was essential to her survival.

Still, she took time to herself. Seastorm was alone now, eyeing a tree and thinking fiercely about chewing on it. Sólhárr had forbidden it. But surely a little nibble couldn't hurt.

Y’var’la had been watching her, from a distance, as she often did. The woman's unspoken decline hadn’t escaped her sharp eyes. The others may have missed the subtle signs—the way her movements seemed slower now, more deliberate, careful—but Y’var’la had made a study of others. The limp the woman bore did not help.

Her gaze flicked over the woman as they neared a tree, eyes narrowed. Y'var'la didn't speak it aloud—not yet. Instead, she let the silence stretch between them, letting Seastorm feel her presence before she approached.

The air was quiet, save for the distant rustle of wind and the occasional snap of a twig beneath her feet. Y’var’la stepped closer, just enough to gauge Seastorm’s expression. When she spoke, it was soft.

"Chewing trees now?" She raised a brow, her tone teasing but carrying a sharp edge beneath it.