{"A wolf protects its loved ones, not because he must, but because he will burn for those who cannot."}
The forest whispered with the memory of old roots and older bloodlines. Sunlight slipped between the trees in golden ribbons, dancing along the path Spark led me down. I followed in silence, hand in his, the air heavy with something unspoken.
We stepped into a small clearing nestled deep in the woods, and there it stood a stone cottage, blanketed in ivy and shadowed by towering oaks. Time had not been kind to it, but it still felt alive, pulsing with memory. Spark paused, his grip tightening slightly.
"This was my home," he said quietly. "Where Tor and I were born."
I looked at the weathered structure, feeling the weight of his words. It was not just a house. It was a heart still beating in the quiet of the forest.
