LOGIN(Liniluna POV — The Language Without Words)
They walked without deciding to.
The noise of the hall thinned behind them until it disappeared entirely, replaced by the layered hush of the forest. Wind threaded softly through branches overhead, carrying the cool scent of moss and distant water.
Liniluna did not as
(Liniluna POV — Occupied Space)Clarity arrived before dawn.Liniluna rose while the house was still wrapped in sleep. The corridors of her parents’ home lay silent as she dressed, the faint blue of early morning barely touching the windowpanes.She chose practical clothing, thick weave, close-fitted sleeves, boots still bearing the faint scars of past terrain. From a storage chest near the rear hall, she retrieved an old gathering carrier once used during harsher winters. The leather straps had stiffened with disuse; one buckle required mending before it would hold weight properly.She repaired it without hesitation.By the time the sun lifted, she was already beyond the village boundary.
(Liniluna POV — The Distance We Choose)Several days passed without sight of him.Liniluna remained within her parents’ house, moving quietly through rooms that had long been familiar yet now felt strangely watchful. Her mother did not question her stillness. Her father observed it and said nothing.Beyond the windows, the village continued its steady rhythms, carts passing, voices drifting, life proceeding with its usual indifference.She did not step outside.Partly because she did not wish to be seen.Partly because she did not trust what direction her feet might choose if she allowed them freedom.She found her
(Liniluna POV — Permission, Reframed)The summons arrived before midday.No explanation.Only instruction.Report to the council chamber.Again.Liniluna read the parchment once, folded it with care, and placed it beside her window. Outside, the healer’s hut stood unchanged, smoke lifting gently, herbs drying beneath the eaves.Still closed to her.Clara watched from the far side of the yard, arms folded tightly.“They won’t stop,” Clara said.“No,”
(Liniluna POV — A Different Kind of Threshold)Her mother entered quietly, carrying more intention than sound.Liniluna was fastening the final clasp at her wrist when Selvara stopped just inside the room and regarded her with thoughtful stillness.“You are not yet dressed.”“I intended to choose something adequate.”Selvara crossed to the wardrobe.“This is not an evening for adequacy.”From within, she drew a gown Liniluna had worn only once .....deep forest green, structured cleanly through the waist before falling in deliberate lines. The fabric caught light without shine, its eleg
(Liniluna POV — The Circle Narrows)Liniluna crossed the boundary stones just as the first lanterns were being lit.She did not shift immediately.The cool night suited her wolf form, air sliding easily through her dark grey coat as she moved across the courtyard. Silver caught faintly along her back wherever light reached her.The door opened before she reached it.One of her aunts froze.“Oh.”The single syllable carried equal parts shock and disapproval.Behind her, another voice rose quickly.“She returns lik
(Liniluna POV — The Language Without Words)They walked without deciding to.The noise of the hall thinned behind them until it disappeared entirely, replaced by the layered hush of the forest. Wind threaded softly through branches overhead, carrying the cool scent of moss and distant water.Liniluna did not ask where they were going.Mivirick did not offer to explain.The path narrowed gradually, roots rising through the soil like old memories. When the trees grew denser and shadow pooled across the ground, he slowed.Then, with a hesitation so slight it might have been missed by anyone less observant, his hand found hers.







