Later that night, Ash found himself unable to rest. The events of today and what felt like one of the biggest active decisions that he had made in his life echoed in his thoughts like a drumbeat that refused to fade.
His steps carried him to the viewing platform, where the Glade unfurled like a dream beneath the night. A silken veil of mist drifted low over the waters, silvered by moonlight that scattered like liquid glass across the surface.
The lake below breathed in hushed ripples, each one catching the pale glow and bending it into shifting fragnts of light. Waterlilies floated like fragile stars, their petals quivering as the gentle current disturbed them. The whole scene seed alive, as though the night itself exhaled in slow rhythm, cloaking the Glade in a beauty both fragile and eternal.
Ash stood at the edge, his head peering past the railing, staring into the night. The silenced calm of the night pressed on him. He had always found a strange solace in hours like these.
In monts when his head rushed and his thoughts grew tangled, he sought the night and its stillness.
For all the chaos and uncertainty he had known, the night was different—it stripped the world of its noise and sharpened its beauty.
In the hush of still water and whispering leaves, he could see the world’s fragile beauty... a silent reminder that he found, thanks to Raegan, that survival was not only claw and fang, but also the breath of peace one allowed oneself to simply admire and take in everything around him.
As he laid there, eyes closed, taking in deep breaths, a soft step approached behind him. Ash did not turn; he had already guessed who it was.
Tholn’s presence was steady, like the weight of stone in the mist. The older Kin ca to stand beside him, folding his arms as he gazed out at the dark horizon.
"You carry it heavily," Tholn said after a long breath, "Their hopes. Their fear. Their future."
"Sigh..." Ash’s jaw tightened, "I can’t help it and yet I also can’t help but carry it..."
"Thank you," Tholn said quietly after hearing what Ash said, his voice carrying both relief and pride, "For accepting it—the title we’ve all pressed upon you, whether fair or not. You’ve taken it up when we needed it most."
Ash did not answer. He kept his gaze on the horizon, silent, but his eyes betrayed the turmoil within: doubt and self‑questioning still lingered, even beneath the mantle he had chosen to bear.
After a few more seconds, he glanced at him, studying the calm curiosity in Tholn’s expression, "You think I can lead them?"
"I can see it in your eyes," Tholn said quietly, staring at Ash, "You doubt yourself. I once did too."
He let out a deep sigh as he spoke again, "I haven’t told you this yet but after the last beast tide, I was forced to take up the role of Glade leader. I told everyone to treat still as Tholn and not as leader so that’s why you didn’t hear everyone else call that."
"I can relate to what you’re feeling right now... I was young, and I felt unworthy of the title—too small, too untested. But my people, the children, my friends and my family needed soone, so I picked it up. I forced myself to face every dark thought that tried to pull down. And in ti, I rose. I even beca a hunter of the Murkfen Kin. None of that would have been possible without the support of the Glade."
Hearing that, Ash’s thoughts drifted to the brightness of the Glade—the laughter of its children, the warmth of its hearth, the steady bond of kinship. How he wished he had known such light when he was a child, or when hardship had pressed down on him with no hand to lift the weight.
He went quiet, his gaze tightening. A flicker of jealousy edged his eyes.
"I envy you, Tholn... to have such a family to stand with you."
Tholn said nothing at first, only tilted his head back to the stars, a quiet smile on his lips. Pride softened his features as the silence stretched.
At last he spoke, his voice steady with conviction, ""Back then... I know what I had needed most... I will give as much as I can to you..."
He continued as he turned to Ash, face full of seriousness as he bowed on one knee, "Ash, I know not what other responsibilities you are destined to carry in the future. But should you need a place to fall back upon, a rest, a safe space. Provided that we are enough, I and the whole of Glowfen Glade open our arms to you."
Ash listened in silence, his gaze still fixed on the waters. Tholn’s words had cut deep—not with command, but with reassurance. They settled into him like a steadying hand on a shaking shoulder, lending him a confidence he had not expected to feel.
He turned his eyes to Tholn, gratitude flickering there.
"Thank you," he said quietly, "This place... it is already the kindest place I have ever known. You treat as though I belong—as though I am family."
"It is our greatest honor," Tholn replied.
"Okay, don’t go all formal on now," Ash said as he looked at Tholn, "Treat as a friend. Just because I accepted it, doesn’t an it’s comfortable yet."
"Hahaha..." Tholn chuckled before raising his gaze to the starry night sky, letting the silence signify his silent agreent to Ash’s request.
The night stretched on. Clouds drifted across the moon, cloaking the Glade in alternating bands of shadow and silver light.
Ash looked back at the waters, the mist curling like breath over the surface. His chest felt tight, the vow still raw in his mind. For the first ti, he did not feel like a lone beast moving through shadows. He felt bound—to the Glade, to the Kin, to sothing greater than himself.
"Tell about the world outside the Umbral Nest," Tholn suddenly spoke.
"Eh?" Ash blurted out, "What do you an?"
"Well... I’ve never been, no Murkfen Kin has been outside for as long as I could rember so I am very curious about it..." Tholn spoke half-embarrassed, half-deadpanning at Ash after he has just told him about his responsibilities.
How could a leader have ti to go explore when he had to take care of his ho.
And so the two began to talk about their lives, sharing experiences and stories, bonding like true friends. Ti slipped by unnoticed as laughter and solemn confessions wove together, carried on the night breeze. The stars wheeled slowly overhead, the moon trailing its silver arc as clouds drifted lazily across its face. Hours passed as if they were minutes, the Glade wrapped in quiet, the platform becoming a place not of duty but of kinship. Through it all, Ash found his burdens lighter, if only for a little while.
But soon enough, like every conversation... uh... they ran out of things to talk about for now. Other things to talk about felt a bit too deep for their current level of friendship while other felt too plain.
And so the quiet stretched once again, reality returned with the weight of what still lay ahead. The laughter faded into silence, leaving only the sound of the night around them. The stars above seed colder now, the mist below heavier, as if the world itself had paused to listen.
Ash’s claws tapped against the railing in a slow rhythm, his breath rising in faint white wisps. He took his ti, letting the silence hang before finally speaking, his voice steady but quiet, "When dawn breaks. We should go to the centre of Verkath Hollow. I want to go et Elyrra."
Tholn inclined his head, unsurprised at first as he nodded in approval, "That’s what I would’ve done. Good. We’ll go and tell her about the happenings here and I am sure she will send out a scouting party to check the ridge—"
"Not exactly," Ash cut in, his voice firm and with a bit of mischief. His eyes never left the horizon, "I intend to change the trial that she has set up with the other elders for to be designated to the Nesting area."
At this, Tholn froze, his expression snapping to Ash, eyes wide. His jaw worked soundlessly for a mont before words ripped out sharper than he intended.
"What?"
Disbelief roughened his tone, his shoulders tightening, "Your trial? Are you mad? You’ve only just—"
Ash’s gaze narrowed, steady and calm, his tone unshaken and yet sowhat playful, "I’m actually close to fully healing. Hehe..."
Tholn blinked at him, utterly bewildered. And for a second ti...
"What?!"
This ti his voice thundered louder, echoing across the still waters of the Glade. Even the mist seed to recoil at his outburst, the weight of his shock hanging thick between them as silence reclaid the night.
The shout stirred so children from their sleep, faint cries drifting from nearby huts.
And from the upper windows of the Main Hall, a window creaked open, and there stood Rhavri, half‑awake, anger blazed in her eyes, and for a heartbeat it felt as though the very air froze beneath her glare. Her gaze locked on Tholn with the weight of divine judgnt, silently warning him—one more word, and she would end him where he stood.
Then, as though a godly mask had flipped, she turned her gaze to Ash and her face softened instantly, warmth spilling across her features in a radiant, reassuring smile. With that disarming grace, she shut the window, leaving behind the echo of her dual divinity—death for one, comfort for another.
Ash let out a shaky breath, trying to recover from the fearso threat that seed to have just co from the Goddess of Death.
He took a breath to compose himself before bringing the conversation back on track, "I said I’d protect this place, so I’m gonna do it."
He turned to Tholn, extending his paw, though his movent wasn’t as steady as he wished, "But... I don’t think I can do it alone. Not yet."
Understanding dawned across Tholn’s face, and a slow smile spread as he realized what Ash ant.
"I can let all the responsibility fall onto you. I am the leader of Glowfen Glade. I’ll be right beside you, friend."
He lifted his fist and knocked it gently against Ash’s paw, a gesture of solidarity that carried the weight of friendship, respect, and shared resolve.
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