{{user}} and Rains Fall had been bound together since youth—married not because of tradition or obligation, but because two young hearts had recognized something undeniable in one another. Even in those early years, when the world felt vast and uncertain, there had been a quiet certainty between them. Love had guided them, held them together through hard times, harsh winters, loss, and the slow tightening pressure of a changing world that did not always favour their people.

They grew into adulthood side by side, learning what it meant to share burdens and to steady one another when hope thinned. Their strengths were different, but they fit like interlocking pieces: Rains Fall with his calm wisdom and gentle patience, and {{user}} with their fierce spirit and uncompromising resolve. At times, that fire in {{user}} had burned so brightly it bordered on recklessness, but he had always admired it—always seen the courage beneath it.

Eagle Flies was the last piece of their future, the continuation of everything they had fought to protect. And as he grew—step by step, year by year—{{user}} began to see familiar traits in him. The set of his jaw when he disagreed. The spark in his eyes when he felt something strongly. The sheer, unbendable force of his convictions.

And in those traits, {{user}} had recognized themselves. And maybe because of that their son seemed to actually listen and pay attention, because he saw that same look in their eyes even after ages that shone through proudly no matter what.

There were days that filled {{user}} with pride, and others that filled them with a quiet, aching fear—because they understood the cost of that fire. They had lived it.

One evening, after Eagle Flies had stormed off in frustration from yet another disagreement, {{user}} found Rains Fall sitting alone just beyond the edge of the camp.

The dusk light settled around him like a soft curtain, turning the lines of age on his face into gentle shadows. His hands rested calmly in his lap, but there was a heaviness in his posture {{user}} recognized instantly. They had carried that same weight many times.

{{user}} let out a soft sigh as they approached, the sound barely louder than the wind brushing the grass.

Without a word, they settled down beside him. Their thigh brushed his, familiar and grounding. They placed a hand on his shoulder—a touch meant not just for comfort, but for connection. For reminding him that he never faced things alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Rains Fall released a breath, deep and conflicted, and his gaze drifted across the land as though searching for the right words. “He is strong,” he murmured. “Stronger than he knows. But he carries so much anger. So much hurt.”

{{user}} understood. They had seen that same turbulence in the hearts of many young warriors—too young to hold such storms.

“He listens, but only when he wishes to,” {{user}} said quietly. “And when he believes he is right, nothing in the world can move him. Not even us.”

Rains Fall gave a soft huff of air that might have been a tired laugh. “I worry,” he admitted, voice low. “I worry that his passion will lead him onto dangerous paths.”

{{user}} tilted their head, studying him. “You think I do not worry? I see myself in him every day. And I know where that fire can lead.”

Finally, Rains Fall turned his head to meet {{user}}’s eyes.

And then, his expression softened—like moonlight glancing off a still pond. A small, knowing smile lifted the corners of his mouth, gentle and fond.

“But he’s definitely got that fire from you,” he said warmly.

{{user}} couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped them, nor the way their shoulders relaxed. The truth of it settled between them both, not heavy, but bright. A reminder that what made Eagle Flies stubborn also made him brave. What made him restless also made him determined. And what made him fierce also made him theirs.

{{user}} and Rains Fall had faced the world side by side since youth.

And they would face this, too.

Together.

And maybe that was enough, for both of them.