Bearclaw Valley one voice tells me that they laugh

anatolia had done something bad.

anatolia now lived with it in her mind.

she grew restless, but could not sleep. she grew agitated, but did not know how to express it. a storm cloud had permanently settled over her and there was no sunshine that could break through it.

the bone from @Cole had grown worn down by her constant gnawing at it.

it was his scent she stalked after today. not particularly for the company his presence might bring, but for the work he might do.

Cole had been wandering the edge of Bearclaw Valley, a bone clenched firmly between his teeth. It was a fresh one, smooth and strong, meant as a replacement for the one he’d given Anatolia before. He had noticed it had worn down the last time he saw her, and though he wasn’t the type to dote, he figured it’d give her something to keep her busy.

He sniffed the air and caught her scent, mingled with an edge he couldn’t quite place—something sharper, unsettled. His pace quickened, and soon enough, he spotted her. But Anatolia looked... different. Changed. Her usual fire seemed dimmed, replaced by a stormy weight in her gaze.

He approached her with a low chuff, dropping the bone at her feet with a soft thud. His amber eyes flicked over her, noting her tense posture and distant expression.

What’s goin’ on, lil' girl? he asked, his voice even but laced with curiosity. There was no accusation in his tone, but the question hung heavy between them. Cole wasn’t one for prying, but something about her now made it hard not to.

her tongue smoothed over a pointy tooth in her mouth.

unsurprisingly the bone he had dropped held most of her possessive attention now. she might have attempted to quickly go for it if his question had not wormed its way into her focus.

dunno. she did know. she only struggled to understand how to say it all. how could she possible explain that everything had simply turned upside down one day and now nothing was right. would it ever go back in place again?

i — she was trying, which was more than usual. can i follow you? learn and stuff. something to keep her busy.

Cole’s sharp gaze lingered on Anatolia, reading the subtle tension in her frame and the faltering rhythm of her words. Her response was as vague as the horizon on a foggy morning, and while her attempt to explain was more effort than he’d expected, it wasn’t enough to convince him.

Still, he wasn’t about to press. Not here, not now.

Yeah—yeah, sure, he replied, the words smooth and easy, though his eyes betrayed his skepticism. Cole bent down to pick up the bone he had brought her, gripping it lightly in his jaws before motioning with a flick of his head for her to follow.

As they moved into the brush, his tone remained casual. We’ll scout the southern edge, he said, muffled around the bone but clear enough. Keep an eye out for anything worth noticin’. Tracks, scents, gimme a nudge if anythin'.

she stuck unusually close to him.

she might have tripped over him if he had halted his walk at any point. any closer and she would have been on his hip like a revolver.

if it had been anyone else, this might have been a heartwarming sight.

she thought she saw tracks in snow. not the kind that worried but something that might be a bit more promising. carefully she nipped at his heels and chuffed softly.

Cole hummed lowly at the nip, glancing back over his shoulder to meet Anatolia's gaze. There was a quiet warmth to his expression, but his brow arched slightly, curiosity flickering in his amber eyes as he followed her focus.

He saw them then—faint, fresh tracks pressed into the snow, their pattern unmistakable.

Hare, he murmured, his voice steady but light. His gaze shifted back to her, weighing her for a moment. You wanna try for it? he asked, his tone carrying just enough challenge to spark her interest.

He stepped aside slightly, gesturing with a subtle motion of his muzzle toward the trail ahead, giving her the lead should she want to take it.

"you wanna try for it?"

she thought of morwenna. the pain of a black hole in her heart pulsing softly. where was she? what was she doing now?

maybe she also chased hares through the winter snows — a comforting thought.

her head nodded with a determined stiffness. quick she was to begin a stalking crouch, nose hovered above the tracks so that her eyes may follow them keenly.

she trusted cole to be there, so she never looked back for him as her steps quickened.

He followed her closely, steps measured and deliberate as he remained a steady shadow behind Anatolia. He watched her movements with a careful eye, noting her crouch and the focus she placed on the tracks. She was learning, no doubt, but there was room for guidance.

Easy now, he murmured lowly, his voice a quiet rumble meant only for her ears. Keep your steps softer. Don’t rush it. Let the hare think it’s alone.

He moved in tandem with her, maintaining a respectful distance, yet close enough to step in if things went awry. His green eyes stayed trained on the trail ahead, flicking occasionally to Anatolia’s form to ensure she maintained her focus.

it was sound advice, perhaps.

yet she worried that if she did not rush it would be gone forever. she tried, though. giant paws carefully aligned in a dedicated manner. she tired to distribute her weight between them all so that she might control how much sound she made.

they were getting closer.

she slowed herself and yet her tail had arced over her spine with her excitement.

lower she crouched, her stomach brushed against the cold ground.

a hare just up ahead.

like a gun, loaded and ready. she waited to be fired.

He stood back, his hulking frame blending into the snowy backdrop as his gaze flicked from her to the hare just beyond her sights.

When her crouch deepened, her tension palpable in the air, he stepped silently closer. His presence was steady, a looming reminder of the moment at hand.

Then, with a calm and firm voice, he broke the silence.

Go.

fired.

she bolted with an ease. long, lean limbs devoured the earth in hungry strides. it was hungrier teeth that sought to clamp down on a fleeing hare.

at first, only a leg.

yet that slowed it enough for her to grab at its own nape. swiftly ended just as quick as the chase had started. the world silent in the wake of it all.

she could only hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Cole watched her with a measured calm, his sharp gaze following her movements as she struck with precision. When the hare stilled in her grasp, he padded closer, his steps slow and deliberate against the snow.

He stopped just short of her, his voice steady and low.

It's alrigh'. You did good.

His gaze flicked to the hare in her jaws, then back to her.

Y'can let go now.

There was no criticism in his tone, only a quiet reassurance, the faintest curl of approval tugging at the corners of his mouth.

she dropped it as if it had weighed a million pounds.

the hare represented something more than what she could understand.

what had been done was done, though. she licked her lips and it felt like being pulled from a haze again.

can you take it to mom and zephyra? her voice small now.

she should have been the one to do it. instead she felt incredibly drained and wish for nothing more than to go hide in a hole for some time.

Cole’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

Why? he asked, his voice low, careful, not wanting to push too hard but needing to understand.

He glanced at the hare she’d dropped, then back at her, his tail giving a slow, concerned sway.

You alright? The question came gently, but there was no mistaking the weight of his worry. She had done well, better than he’d expected, but something wasn’t sitting right with her—and he wanted to know why.

she wondered what he would say, what he would think.

she wondered if anyone would ever want to be near her again if she said it. cole was a guard, he might understand. yet still it was only a might. which was enough to have her teeter between telling him and sealing up.

i haven't told anyone — a secret might have been the word she was looking for. instead her mind was grasping for any way to cope with this thing.

say it begged her heart. how asked her mind.

i did...something.

a start.

Cole’s ears flicked, the only sign of his reaction as he settled beside her, the snow crunching softly beneath his weight. His green eyes stayed steady on her, neither judging nor pressing, but waiting.

What did you do? he asked, his voice quiet—not demanding, but inviting. The question hung in the cold air, his tone free of accusation, holding only curiosity and a hint of concern.

His gaze softened further as he watched her struggle, her words hesitant and fractured. He didn’t push, didn’t prod. Instead, he remained there, steady as the trees around them—a quiet presence to anchor her if she needed it.

there was someone.

it felt like pulling details of landscape through the fog. everything was the same, nothing was clear. her mind had swallowed it whole in hopes of keeping it from her. granted no such thing had worked.

they were hurt — she remembered that. and i think i made it worse — i didn't mean to. she promised him with shining eyes, thickly rimmed with tears.

only she knew that she had.

that she had thrown herself into them, that she had wanted to seize the situation with her own teeth. only it had never felt like her and the haze of it following afterwards had only made it all more confusing. she could not even say what had happened with confidence. only uncertainty.

the limp hare sat still, sat cold.

the thing she had brought to such a state.

she would have never been able to present it with pride.

you can't tell anyone. begging, pleading.

Someone echoed inside the barbarians mind. Off the walls of what he coveted, Cole swallowed the lump in his throat. Eyes trained on Anatolia, he didn't let his expression betray him.

Though there'd been a monster inside of her. A violence that sought to be craved. Did he not house the same? Did he not pray for gruesome battles? What was a father— man— supposed to do, here? Anatolia trembled, tears beckoning to fall, and he only felt the instinct to protect her.

He moved his tanned arm to grip around her waist, pulling her taut against his chest.

Why d'ya think y'did it, sweetheart? He said calmly, smooth like butter over his southern twisted tongue. He didn't hold judgement— he'd slaughter any for the sake of one life. This much he knew.

No one'll know. I swear it.

she did not resist when he pulled her near.

something about it acted like a floodgate. perhaps the reassurance that it was okay, that it would only be between them. she did not sob outright, but her tears continued. sniffles and uneven breathing into the thick of his chest.

i just wanted it to be okay. i just wanted to...make it stop, to fix it.

to control things, to put them right for all the times she felt she had never been able to.

The wetness of her tears filled the full furs of his chest. He let out a sigh, lowering his head to allow his tongue to roll over the top of her own. She was still such a small, dainty girl, that he couldn't...he could. He could imagine the violence she could enact. But it didn't scare him.

It's alrigh', Annie girl. He pulled her tighter, wrapped his paws firmer to ensure that it was okay. He couldn't smell anything but the rabbit and Nephele's lingering scent on her coat. He wondered just how recent this...accident had happened.

Y'ain't known what to do. Y'er a learnin', growin' girl. It was his best attempt to convince her. He'd already convinced himself— she's innocent.

And if anyone came lookin', he sure as hell preach it 'till his death.

learning. growing.

annie girl could be those things. could be innocent and absolved of all she had done.

anatolia was a girl who seemed surrounded by trouble. one who lost things and made a mess of everything around her.

i'm sorry — she mumbled as the tears slowed at last, as she attempted to settle her breathing. it was okay she told herself.

this would only ever existent between the two of them. just as she had made him mark the bone with his teeth in ritual, they were now bonded over her terrible deeds.

she was attached to him now. once she had kept him at a distance, uncertain and nervous of what might happen if she grew to like him. now she knew she would hardly be able to leave his side.

terrible deeds.

Cole had done more than a few of those in his life. If not, his entire existence fell upon a heap of lies. If it meant keeping Annie safe, then he would be a martyr.

He felt a powerful presence come back to life inside of him. A purpose. A reason to walk, to hunt, to run, to leave fires in his wake for the purpose of keeping a daughter safe.

She was his now, blood or not.

Y'er alrigh', lil' girl. You'll be jus' fine. He promised. It was laced with gold, the highest form of truth a liar like him could muster. He was all rippling muscle, but she found the one soft part about him. His heart.

With even breaths, his body absorbed her tears. No longer would she feel the guilt upon her shoulders. Cole could take it. Just fine...

fade? ;; <3

it would be okay.

she believed him because there was no other choice. he was the only one who could ever see this glimmering of her, something feral and dirty. yet no longer did she have to carry it alone.

she had him.

and he'd have her, a new shadow to his paths.