You walked through the dense forest, the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting soft patterns on the forest floor. Ahead of you, your husband, Drarn, was laughing as he chased your two sons, Dallgin and Nash, their giggles echoing through the trees as they darted between the trunks, trying to outpace him. It was a scene of simple joy, one that felt all the more precious after everything you had been through.

It had been nearly a year since you fled the orc village, your former home, when the others turned against you. The memory of that night still haunted you, how you’d barely escaped with your life, Drarn fighting to protect you as angry shouts filled the air, torches lighting up the darkness. Drarn, loyal and fierce, refused to let them take you, leading your small family into exile, far from the orc lands.

Since then, you had wandered, never staying in one place too long, always looking over your shoulder, yet finding solace in the bond between you and the small family you had built. Drarn’s strength had kept you safe, his love steady even in the face of danger. And your sons, born into a world of constant movement, had grown resilient, their laughter a reminder that even in the midst of hardship, there was still room for happiness.