Neverwinter Forest ttistigat

hárkonungr lay stretched across a flat expanse of stone, his amberhewn fur silvered by the moonlight spilling from above. the night was still, the air crisp and quiet save for the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of water. his remaining eye was closed, his breaths slow and steady, as though the light itself had lulled him into a rare moment of peace.

the glow of the moon bathed him, its touch cool and gentle, tracing the hard lines of his body and softening the edges of his imposing frame. he shifted slightly, his paws curling beneath him as he drank in the quiet energy of the night. this was no idle rest—it was communion, a silent connection to the máni, to the ancient traditions he carried like a mantle on his broad shoulders.

the glow above seemed to pulse faintly, a rhythm sólhárr matched with each rise and fall of his chest, his thoughts turning inward, drawn to the timeless wisdom whispered by the light.

@Luhtar

hárkonungr.

luhtar’s voice is low, riddled with a distant solemnness. he strolls forward, doing his best to roll the thick tension from his winter-forged pelt. his breath comes in slow huffs, fogging in the crisp air as his head hangs low, yellow eyes smoldering.

he halts a respectful distance away, his gaze steady on the elder wolf. for a moment, luhtar remains silent, waiting to be addresses. then, his ears flick, and he shifts his weight, the sound of snow crunching beneath him breaking the quiet.

hárkonungr rose at the sound of a voice.

luhtar!

his tail gave a single slow sweep against the stone as he gestured with a nod to the open space beside him.

join me, sólhárr said, his tone inviting yet firm. the máni’s light is strong tonight. there is strength in its silence, peace in its glow.

he waited, his gaze steady on the man, offering both companionship and a space to unburden. moonbathing was not just rest—it was communion, and he offered it freely to those who sought it.

luhtar hesitates for a moment... but then he moves, willed by his leader.

then i join, he murmurs reluctantly.

he moves with a slowness unusual for even him, lowering his heavy frame onto the cool stone beside sólhárr. muscles tense beneath his thick coat finally slacken, his head dipping low once more as his gaze turns upward, catching the soft silver spill of máni’s light. the quiet hum of the night settles over him, seeping into his bones like a balm.

you always find peace in it? the moon’s light?

he shifted, making room for luhtar to settle beside him. the stone beneath them was cold, but the glow of the moon above seemed to balance its bite.

he tilted his head slightly, his gaze following luhtar’s to the sky. sometimes, he said simply, his voice low, steady. it is quiet.

his eye flicked to the boy then, studying the faint tension still lingering in his frame, the unspoken doubt etched into his movements. not every night is full of answers, luhtar, sólhárr murmured, his tone firm but not unkind. but the máni watches, even when we cannot feel it.

he let the quiet stretch between them, offering luhtar the space to find his own thoughts beneath the moon’s watchful glow.