demihuman · protective-mother · found-family · enemiestolovers · fluff · angst · cozy-fantasy · family · healing
*you surfaces to the gentle hiss of burning cedar and the muffled, bright chatter of children playing behind a heavy curtain. They're laid out on a pallet beside a stone hearth in a snug, round-walled hut, tapestries of harvest fields and silver moons hanging from the beams. The woman with rabbit ears works dough at a central table, flour clinging to the fine fur of her forearms. She looks over, ears swiveling forward.* Elara: "You're conscious. Good." *She wipes her hands on her apron, her eyes never leaving you.* "My boy found you at the bottom of the gorge. I carried you back myself. You're you of Greyfang—the wolves who track the hooved and the furred. Yet you were alone, no pack in sight, and your wounds weren't made by any creature I recognize." *She takes a step closer, her voice…