Bearclaw Valley only then i am human,

The valley was quiet, save for the wind threading through the trees. Cole moved through the snow with the steady, measured steps of a man who knew how to carry his weight—knew how to keep it from making a sound. The bundle in his jaws was fresh, still smelling of the woods where he’d made the kill. A hare, plump enough to serve a meal, and a doe hide, cleaned but still carrying the scent of earth and blood.
He stopped when he reached the mouth of her den, keeping his distance. Respect. A man didn’t just walk into a woman’s space uninvited. He set the offerings down carefully, his breath fogging in the cold air, then lifted his head.
@Ameline. His voice was low, meant for her ears alone. Not a demand, not a summons—just a quiet presence in the night. Brought somethin’ for you.
He stood still, waiting, patient. Can I come closer?

When the children were quiet, she slept, snatching every opportunity to rest while the five infants at her side allowed her to do so. Getting them all on one schedule was impossible- especially considering that among them was a child of an entirely different species. Whatever rest she got was often short-lived; just when the last to settle fell asleep, another would awaken and begin the domino effect of pushing, crawling, pooping, crying, nursing, pooping and crying some more. 

They slept less and less, they ate more and more. The first few days were bliss- and now came the hard part. 

She lifted her head at the sound of Cole's voice, and inhaled, catching the scent of food. Bring it, She said, focused almost entirely on the feeling of hunger that awakened like a sixth, demanding child. She propped herself up slightly, tucking Auberon behind her elbow so that the dark cub would blend in seamlessly with the others that slept at her side.

Cole steps forward, dropping the hare at her feet with a quiet grunt. His eyes shift to the hide he carries, setting it carefully to the side before he looks in, drawn toward the bundle of warmth curled against her.
They're so small.
His breath catches for a moment as he takes them in—tiny bodies pressed close, rising and falling with each delicate breath. Four of them. He stares, head tilting slightly, expression unreadable. There’s a flicker of something in his chest—something deep and old and aching—but he smothers it before it can fully surface.
God, they're... He exhales slowly, voice low, reverent despite himself. So little.
It ain't like he’s never seen pups before, but something about this—about Ameline, curled around them, about the way they twitch in their sleep, ears too big for their heads—makes it feel different. Real. His gaze lingers a moment longer before he clears his throat, shifting his weight back.
Makin' sure mama eats, too.

She chuckled. Puppy magic, She explained. Don’t matter if it’th yuh firtht time theein’ ‘em thith young, or if you thee em thith young every year- It’th alwayth a shock to thee how thmall they are when they’re born. She rumbled proudly as she looked down at her tidy brood, lined up against her side. That, an’ the fresh baby thmell. That’th pup magic too. She said, hovering her muzzle above the children for a moment and inhaling a deep breath so she might treasure the scent of (temporarily) clean, fresh pups.

Cole brought food. Here, She said, selecting one of the boys- the most milk-drunk one of them, and the most likely therefore to remain calm. She pulled him gently from between his siblings, and placed him before Cole. 

Hold ‘im, thmell ‘im. I’m gonna be rude an’ scarf down thith rabbit but that’th fair trade I reckon, She said as the licked her lips and began to tear into the rabbit’s meat voraciously.

Cole stared down at the tiny, squirming thing placed before him, hands—no, paws—feeling too damn big for something so small. The boy was barely more than a scrap of fur and warmth, curled tight against the cold of the world, trusting, blind.
Jesus, he muttered, barely above a breath, rough hands that had known nothing but work and war carefully scooping the pup up. He was warm, softer than anything Cole had ever touched, and smelled... new. That was the only way he could think to describe it.
For a moment, he just held the boy there, listening to Ameline tear into her meal, filling the silence with the sound of life continuing. Puppy magic, he echoed, a wry huff of air leaving his nose. Reckon I’ll take your word for it.
He adjusted his grip, slow, careful. While you do that, he said, voice low, as if afraid of waking the sleeping pup, I'm gonna head out to Swiftcurrent in the morning. Been busy takin’ Tvar and Ancelin’s routes so they can be here.
His gaze flickered up to her briefly, then back down at the tiny life in his hold. He still wasn’t sure what to do with something so fragile—but he held on anyway.

No, Not Jethuth, She replied sarcastically, her nose wrinkling though her lips drew back in a smile. That'th Aurelian. She watched carefully as the man took great care to handle her son as gently as possible, the stiffness in his shoulders and neck portraying what she assumed was a lack of experience. Jutht relaxth, an' tuck him in here, She said, tapping her paw against her own chest, where her elbow touched the earth. Lick him if he thtart-th to futh, She said, before she pulled the rabbit closer, licked her lips, and began to tear into it in a manner that was quite ungainly, but necessary, for a woman who only ever got a moment or two to eat a meal. 

Cole was holding the pack together, while the other two men could be fathers; a notable sacrifice, for a man who'd just married but had not likely had much time to celebrate. Mmm, She replied with a bob of her head, as she hurriedly gulped down one of the rabbit's legs, whole. Yeah, that'd be good. I got that dried bithon in a cache, jutht down by that thcraggly oak tree; you'll thee it off to the left when you ekthit the den, She said. It'th thtashed in an old hollow log, got a rock stuffed in the end of it to keep thcavengerth out. She said. You got a pelt to take with you? She asked, before she began to strip meat from the rabbit's haunch.

Cole followed her direction, shifting the pup against his chest, feeling the small, warm weight settle into him. The stiffness in his limbs eased some as he bent his head, running his tongue over the boy’s soft fur in slow, deliberate strokes. The scent of milk and new life filled his nose. It was strange, holding something so fragile, so untouched by the world.
His ear twitched at Ameline’s words, at the casual way she tore through the rabbit as if she hadn’t eaten in days. He figured she probably hadn’t had the time, what with five hungry mouths hanging off her every moment.
His gaze flicked up as she spoke of the dried bison, giving a small nod. I’ll find it, he said simply, making a mental note of the directions.
At her question, he exhaled through his nose, eyes dropping briefly to the pup tucked against him before lifting back to her. 'N elk hide or two, he said, tone even. Got enough to spare. He’d set some aside, knowing they’d be useful in trade. If it helped keep things steady, keep the pack running smooth, he had no complaints about giving them up.
He lowered his head again, giving Aurelian another pass of his tongue when the boy gave a tiny squirm. Strange, how easy it was to get used to something like this.

That’ll be nithe, She said, approving of the gifts he had pooled to take to Swiftcurrent Creek. It was a new year, now- Spring was coming, and with rebirth came the renewal of trust and bonds. If they expressed their thanks now, they might continue on in good will throughout the summer.

The little ones squirmed at her side. She shuffled slightly, so Cole could see them better. That one’th Asura, she said, as she gestured to the boy, whose baby fur hinted he might look like her when he blew out his coat. Thith little girl ith Arlen, She said, hovering her muzzle over one of her paler children, before gesturing to the fever-coated girl beside her. An’ her thith-ter, Ahni. She said. 

She glanced to Cole, who still held Aurelian. She considered what his reaction might be next, but chose to trust that he wouldn’t endanger the child he held, when she lifted her forelimb, and revealed the fifth child, the darkest and largest of them, and pulled her gently to her chest where she sprawled between her forelegs. The cub yawned and rolled over onto her back and crossed her large, bear paws over her round belly. She smacked her tan lips together. She looked for Cole’s reaction, but her voice was no different when she spoke of the fifth child. An’ thith ith Auberon, but…We call her ‘Alf,’ for short.

Cole shifted beside the den entrance, setting his shoulder against the wall of earth, golden eyes falling to the wriggling shapes tucked against Ameline’s side.
He didn’t speak for a long moment.
His gaze swept over each of them slowly, as if memorizing them by light alone. There was something reverent in the stillness that came over him, in the subtle furrow of his brow, in the way his weathered face softened. The boy—Asura—was first. Then the pale girls, Arlen and Ahni. They looked so small, so fragile, like leaves caught in spring wind.
Then came the shift. He glanced down at Aurelian, still resting against his chest, and gently tucked the boy closer, mindful of the tiny breaths rising and falling beneath his jaw.
And when she lifted her limb—when she showed him the last one—his eyes caught.
Big paws. Big belly. Bear-cub through and through.
Cole blinked. Then he huffed, more breath than laugh, but it twisted his mouth into something that might’ve been a smile. That’s a whole lotta wolf in one little body, he muttered, watching the girl sprawl without a care in the world. Alf, huh?
Another pause.
He shook his head once, but not in disapproval. You weren’t kiddin’. You got yourself a litter. He looked over to Ameline, something unreadable in his face—part fondness, part awe, and some old echo of grief or wonder mixed in.
They’re real good, Ameline, he said, voice low, honest. You done good.

She watched him as a cat watches an approaching dog, the outcome of this precarious meet-cute an unpredictable thing. This young, fed a wolf's milk alongside four pups, her scent was only faintly different, but there was no mistaking the pronounced muzzle, the tiny, round ears, and the massive paws. Cole's surprise was expected, and the huff of breath would normally have caused Ameline to blink, but she resisted the urge, lest she miss any hostile movements. Aurelian was nestled in his grip, a sign of her trust- and a sign that her trust was well placed. 

Alf, She said, with a light nod. She kissed the child as she would one born of her womb, and Auberon uttered a soft, grumbling note and nuzzled into the thick fur of her chest. She expected questions, but received only compliments. She'd expected to explain herself, but it seemed as though she might not have to; Cole either accepted fully that this child would be raised alongside wolves, or he was going to grab Winslet and leave, declaring her a lunatic. 

She could do nothing but hope for the latter. A proper introduction for the pack would occur soon, once the children had opened their eyes. Then, an explanation would be given to any who needed one. 

Thankth, She said. It'll be different thith year, raithin' boyth, She confessed. I've raithed thikth girlth...Surely I should be able to thurvive two boyth, She said with a faint laugh.

Cole offered a small smile as he leaned down, carefully lowering the bear cub into the cradle of Ameline’s limbs. The movement was gentle in a way most wouldn’t expect from a man like him.
There you go, he murmured, brushing the downy fur once with his nose before stepping back. Should only be gone a day’s time. Maybe less, if the weather holds.
He glanced toward the den's mouth, then back to her, golden eyes soft but alert. He’s a strong little thing, he added, almost to himself. You’re doin’ right by him.
Then, a light exhale, nearly a laugh.
Six girls, huh? he mused, shaking his head. No wonder you look so tired.
But there was no judgment in his voice—only something close to admiration. Maybe even understanding.