AW maybe Tsukikage Astier

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the wind pulled at her fur, thin and sharp as bone. morwenna stood at the summit, eyes narrowed against the light, watching the land stretch out beneath her like a promise long denied.
the cave rose ahead, carved into the mountain’s throat— not hollow, but vast, shaped by time and pressure and something older than either. its mouth gaped wide, ringed with stone like a crown. a place not meant to be found, only claimed.
she stepped forward, her paws near silent on the frostbitten stone, and entered the dark.
inside, it opened— high-vaulted, cold, full of silence. a throne room waiting for blood and fire.
morwenna lifted her chin. evenspire will live again, she said, and the mountain held her voice like a vow.

Tsukikage had kept his word, following alongside his new queen and friend without a second thought. They had finally come upon the great mountain she had spoken of. Wild winds and snow were surely awaiting them as they began to enter its depths. Morwenna guided them into a dark cave, filled with a huge cavern where royalty might have stood. It was a grand sight, one that he certainly felt in awe of. Blue eyes looked around, taking in the cold stone and thick walls that surrounded them. The dark woman went out ahead just a bit further, though he could still hear her voice as she spoke. The stoic man stayed silent, listening further to his future queen. At the same time, keeping watch for anything that might come to harm her.

can be a cameo unless addressed <3

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The wraith had not sworn himself to the black queen; not in words. Yet his silence had its own weight, and his steps traced hers all the same. There was something in her bearing that commanded deference, not through volume or brute force, but through the quiet, coiled power of one who knew exactly what she was, and what she intended to become. Astier could respect that.
Morwenna was no Faust. She moved with discipline, carried herself with purpose, and possessed an eye sharp enough to see ambition when it dared show its face. He had lingered on the edge of choice for some time, uncertain if he would follow her path. But after dragging the siren from the maw of the sea, he knew: if she was to survive in this bitter new world, he would need to shape its power to favor her. And to do that, he needed standing, needed to carve out his place within the queen’s court. Not beneath it.
Now, Astier walked in measured silence behind her, shadowing her steps as frost trailing the passage of wind. Another walked ahead of him; dark-pelted, broad-shouldered, clearly her protector. A loyal sword at the queens side. Astier’s eyes narrowed, a faint lift of his brow betraying a flicker of thought before his expression settled once more into frostbitten stillness.
Evenspire; the name echoed with nothing; no memory, no recognition. The cavern that opened before them was wide and silent, its stone walls black as old obsidian. Cold seeped from its depths, a breath from a slumbering beast. Silver gaze traced its contours, cataloguing every jagged edge, every sharp turn. This place, harsh, bleak, unforgiving, suited him.
He drifted further from the pair, keeping his distance. Already, he was mapping it in his mind: the passageways, the shadows, the points of control. A summit made of stone and silence, a throne carved of frost.

SKILL Orator 1/5

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morwenna stood at the mouth of the cavern, where the stone breathed cold and old. her eyes— sharp, silver, unflinching — cut between the two men who had followed her here. two blades of different make, both dangerous, both loyal in their own quiet, unyielding way. she did not often gather, but when she did, it was for purpose.
tsukikage, she said, turning first to the dark wolf at her side, her voice smooth as black glass, this is astier. we met upon the shore, and has not left since. his silence is not absence. it is watchfulness. her eyes turned, then, to the pale shadow beyond— astier— whose silver gaze held the calm of a blizzard yet to descend. and you, astier, her words shifted like a draw of silk, this is tsukikage. i have not met a more resolute sword.
she took a breath, letting it roll slow from her chest like smoke from a cooling forge. there was a regal tilt to her head, though not arrogant— a queen who earned her place not through claim, but through survival.
i will not rule alone, she said, and in the vaulted hush of the mountain’s ribs, her words carried with eerie precision. and if evenspire is to rise again, i will need more than oaths. i will need men who see not just a queen— but a kingdom worth forging.
she stepped back then, gaze split between them, watching how storm and blade might meet.
so speak. or don’t. but know one another.

Morwenna continued to guide them through their cold and dark cavernous home. Blue eyes kept a watchful gaze on her, a figure of proud strength, grace and beauty. She kept her self assured calmness, looking to him for a moment as her voice broke the silence once more. The dark woman had him transfixed with her silver gaze, her lips moving to speak of the alabaster wolf nearby. He was a quiet fellow, with held a certain air of self respect and dignity that was befitting such a wolf. Tsukikage gave an respectful nod to him, nothing more and nothing less.

He wasn't quite sure what to say to the man, not at all the best at speak formally and breaking the ice with others. Morwenna was the rare exception. But give it time, that too would pass. The wolf coated in moon and stars turned to face him again, this time attempting to make contact with the other in his presence. The pleasure if all mine. I do hope that we shall get to know one another more in the future. It was the best he could do in the moment.