Bearclaw Valley so close to what

nephele worked at a hare she caught, plucking fur from skin until the hide was ready to be dried. she fixed it atop a stone to bake in the sun before reaching to preen through zephyra's fur. but the girl was up and marching away before the mother could ever reach her.

nephele watched as her daughter burst through the foliage and off to the distance. her stomach churned as she fought the protective urge to chase after the girl, to watch from a distance, to ensure her safety.

the stormcloud woman turned away, moving off in some odd direction to distract herself from her own thoughts. here she caught the scent of @Cole, and hastily moved to find the man.

Cole heard her before he saw her, the faint rustling of leaves giving away Nephele’s approach. He turned his head slightly, the lines of his broad frame taut and alert. When her silver form slipped into view, his features softened, though his brow remained furrowed, his typical gruffness tempered by the storm that seemed to follow her every step.

Yer lookin’ for me? he asked, voice low and steady. Without waiting for an answer, he stepped closer, his muzzle brushing lightly against her cheek, a fleeting gesture of connection that he hoped wouldn’t be unwelcome.

You alrigh’? His drawl was soft, but the concern behind it was unmistakable. He studied her with a sharp, discerning gaze, noting the tension in her posture, the faint shadow in her hazed, emerald eyes. Whatever was on her mind, he’d be there to shoulder it—though he’d never say as much aloud.

she slipped through brush and thicket before setting about the clearing that cole found himself in. a shake was given to free herself of any loose shrubbery that might have clung to her coat before she made her way to greet the man.

a touch that would have once been met with fangs was now embraced by the woman. she paused to enjoy the brief moment before leaning back to answer the questioned asked.

"i have yet to thank you," she started, washing over his features as sun beamed through the treetops and made the man glow with soft warmth. "for what you've done for my girls. for me."

they were safe, together. and she had cole to appreciate for this.

His expression calm, almost indifferent, though the faintest flicker of something softer crossed his golden eyes. It wasn’t anything, he drawled, his voice steady, his accent carrying the easy cadence of his roots. Just doin’ what needed doin’.

He shifted his weight, glancing off toward the horizon as though the conversation was of little consequence, though his presence stayed firmly grounded. Anatolia’s got herself a new bone to chew on now. Figured she might like it.

His gaze returned to Nephele briefly, catching hers with a glint of quiet reassurance. Your girls are good. Tough, like their ma. Don’t reckon they need much lookin’ after, but… I’m around if they ever do. His tone was nonchalant, but the weight of his words lingered, grounding the air between them.

the indifference to a genuine acknowledgment might have once stirred venom from her tongue. but in his tone she heard the voice of arktos and found herself chuckling instead of spitting fire. she'd thought them similar upon her first meeting with cole, a mistake perhaps, but even now she could both see and hear the similarities between them.

they would have gotten along, she thought.

the mention of her girls brought about a more serious expression from the stomecloud despite the man's uplifting words. "my girls are difficult," she admits with a burdened exhale. "ana is quiet and zeph," a sigh, "is reclusive."

she slumps to her haunches, a breath sucked in, "i always wanted kids, but i might have reconsidered if i knew how much of a challenge motherhood would be."

a truth she'd not said aloud before.

Cole lowered himself to the ground, his large frame folding with a grunt until he lay sprawled before her. His head rested between his paws, ears twitching slightly as he took her words in. Stretched out, he was the height of her chest, and his quiet presence seemed to fill the space between them with a grounding warmth.

He listened carefully, his amber eyes steady and patient as she spoke. When she sighed, admitting the struggles of motherhood, a flicker of understanding passed over his rugged features.

Reckon it takes two to find comfort, he said, his deep southern drawl softer than usual. His nose brushed lightly against her foreleg in a gesture both consoling and unassuming. And I’d say you’re doin’ more than alright, Nephele. Ain’t no easy thing, raisin’ young ones, but you’re stickin’ with it. That’s somethin’.

He lifted his head just enough to meet her gaze, the weight of his sincerity unmistakable. They’ll find their way, just like you did. They got your strength in ‘em, even if it’s a bit quiet right now.

A small, almost boyish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ::And if Ana’s quiet and Zephyra’s reclusive, well... reckon they’re just tryin’ to figure out where they fit in. Same as the rest of us.:

there was an appreciation for cole's constant reassurance to her woes. so many times now in such short time had he encouraged her or lifted her spirts, so much so that nephele had suddenly become aware of her own despair. what he must think of her, swimming in this misery!?

she burned with embarrassment for her own heartache and turned to fixate upon anything but herself.

cole's words suggested an understanding found only in experience and she wondered aloud then, "do you have kids of your own?" he looked an age to have a few by now. "you sound like you have experience with young ones."

her eyes gleamed with interest for the man to share his own relations. he knew of her own. hell, he'd escorted her entire world across an open wilderness and she knew nothing of him.

Cole’s hum was low, thoughtful, like the rumble of distant thunder rolling across a summer sky. He shifted slightly where he lay, the weight of Nephele’s question settling in the space between them. His gaze, usually sharp and assessing, softened as it drifted to the horizon.

Yeah, he began, his voice quiet but steady. Had a daughter once. A long, long time ago now.

He didn’t look at her as he spoke, the memories swirling in his mind too vivid to share fully. There was a pause, a faint shadow flickering across his expression, before he exhaled, letting the weight of the past roll off his shoulders like the breath of a burden too heavy to carry.

Anatolia, he murmured after a moment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there was a lingering wistfulness in his tone. She reminds me of her sometimes. The quiet, the way she thinks before she speaks.

He glanced back at Nephele, his gaze grounding her in the present, steady and unflinching. Guess that’s why I don’t mind her silences. Makes me feel like I’m hearin’ echoes of somethin’ I thought I’d lost.

It was as much as he was willing to share, the rare vulnerability he allowed a fleeting glimpse of before it was tucked away again, safe and secure.

nephele was wordless in this moment of unguarded sincerity. a daughter. long ago. a breeze blew between them and tugged at more than just the cloudy greys of the woman's coat. a deep and appreciative ember burned in her eyes for the man sharing what he did.

him seeing a shadow of his own daughter in anatolia made nephele's heart thrum with a burst of delight and pride. unsure what to say to voice this, she simply said nothing at all, moving to brush against his paw as he'd done with hers just moments before should he let her.

and so as cole closed his vulnerability behind a steel locked door, nephele did not go knocking. one day, should the sun ever rise on it, the door might open for her all on it's own.

"parenthood is a challenge," she breathed, calling back to their earlier conversation. "but it's also the greatest gift i've got."

his earlier words played in her head; your girls are good. tough, like their ma. don’t reckon they need much lookin’ after, but… i’m around if they ever do.

"i'm glad my girls have you around."

Cole let her words settle between them like the warm embers of a fire. He nodded slowly, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. It is a good thing, ain’t it? he agreed, his tone low and steady. The touch of her paw against his brought a rare softness to his gaze, and he let out a quiet, contented huff.

For a moment, he simply sat there, letting the stillness of the moment speak for itself. The breeze carried her scent, a mixture of earth and rain, grounding him further. He glanced at her, the steel in his eyes giving way to something warmer.

I’ll be around, he said finally, his voice gentle but firm. Long as you want me here, Nephele. For you, for your girls… don’t matter. I’ll be here.

The promise hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. He meant it. Whatever storms came their way, Cole would stand like an old oak, steady and unshaken.

she didn't feel any pressure to speak when the quiet befell them. the silence in her daughters stressed her to no end, but with cole it brought about an air of stillness. like a cool breeze coasting over summer waters.

he made a promise and though she meant not to spoil the integrity of it, she could not help but to spill an amused giggle from her lips. "not even my husband made such a pledge to me!" she revealed with a fading tug of her lips. she glance off wondering where he was now, and if he'd found whatever it was he must be searching for.

she breathed back to the weight of their conversation and turned to look upon cole with admiration in her sight. "you are a good man cole, i appreciate you for this."

"my girls, though they may not know it now, will learn to appreciate you for this too."

Cole grunted at the mention of her husband, his broad shoulders rolling slightly as if to shrug off the thought of the man. He didn’t like the idea of someone leaving Nephele alone, vulnerable in a world that often demanded strength from even the most unyielding of souls. But he didn’t voice it; it wasn’t his place to speak on it.

Instead, he held steady, as unwavering as a stone beneath the relentless tide. His patience was like the stillness of water before a storm—enduring, calm, but not without its depths. He met her gaze briefly, then looked off into the trees, his expression unreadable yet grounded.

Reckon they will, he said simply, his voice low and gravelly. A quiet assurance lingered in his tone, not boastful, just certain. Ain’t about thanks, though. It’s just what’s right.

Cole didn’t need gratitude. What mattered was that Nephele and her girls had a foundation to stand on—a place of safety, even if he wasn’t the man meant to provide it. He let out a soft, pleased huff at her admiration, though, acknowledging her words with a slight tilt of his head.

You like to hunt? Weave? Milana, she's awful good with sinew and deer pelts. Y'might get 'long with her, too.

just what's right.

she mulled over those words after he'd said them, chewing them up and digesting them as if they were law above all else. and she wondered silently then what made something right? was it a personal decision, or was it decided by society? maybe it didn't matter.

she didn't linger on the thought long, turning then to focus upon the other words the man spoke. "i'm not much good at the more dexterous trades," she teased. "i learned how to work the pelts though, so i've got that going for me," she tacked on with a lighthearted laugh. "maybe i'll learn a bit more from milana."

after a few moments she mused, "before i had my kids i loved to explore. i'm good with keeping a map in my head," she raised a paw to give a few taps against her temple as if to reiterate her words.

Cole let out a low hum, brushing her comment about not being good at dexterous trades aside with an easy shrug. There's still time, he drawled, his voice calm and steady. Raisin’ those girls of yours, keepin’ ‘em safe and sound—that’s no small thing. Hell, takes more skill than most care to admit.

He leaned back, his broad frame resting against the tree at his side, tail flicking lazily in thought. Tell you what, he continued after a moment, his amber eyes catching hers with a hint of a smirk. Maybe next time we’re out, we keep an eye out for caribou or elk herds. Ain’t just for huntin’—good to know where they’re movin’, how the land’s changin’. Might be somethin’ we can do together.

The suggestion hung in the air, casual but genuine. He wasn’t looking to impose, but the thought of sharing something productive and grounding with her felt...right.

You’ve got the mind for it, he added with a faint, approving nod, tapping a paw lightly against his own temple in echo of her earlier motion. Mappin’ out the land, learnin’ its ways—bet you’re sharp at it. Reckon we’d make a good team.

there was a somber smile given to the first words cole spoke, his intentions admirable though they stirred a simmering pot of sidelined emotions. keepin’ ‘em safe and sound — she turned away, rolling a shoulder as if unaffected. but i didn't keep one of them safe, she told herself before swallowing the thought whole.

she refocused when he spoke again, a smile teasing the edge of her lips at his idea for tracking the herds. "sounds like a plan to me," she agreed, her tail giving a soft few patters against the earth behind her.

and to the potential of them being a good team, she gave a few affirming nods. "i guess there's only one way to find out," she suggested with a wink back to his idea of the herds. "how about in the next few days we put your theory to the test?"

she'd been largely settling herself and the girls in since they'd joined the valley wolves. she figured it was about time to put in some work so that her family weren't seen as the local freeloaders.

Cole’s grin softened at her agreement, a rare flicker of satisfaction warming his otherwise stoic features. Then it’s a deal, he said, his drawl low but certain, like a stone rolling into place. We’ll track ‘em together—see if this idea holds any water.

He shifted his weight slightly, settling into a more relaxed posture as his gaze lingered on the distant horizon. The thought of working alongside her felt natural, even comforting, in a way he wasn’t sure he could—or needed to—explain.

Few days it is, he agreed, letting the moment linger between them like the quiet rustle of leaves. Then, with a nod, he let the thread of conversation slip into silence, content to let their plans carry them forward.

fade?

and so it was decided, they would track the herds in a few days time. nephele felt a newfound eagerness in her toes and dug her nails beneath the soil where she lay. if she could tend the herd of bison at yellowstone, surely elk and caribou would be of little challenge?

perhaps if she found herself proficient enough at the task, she might think herself destined to be a shepherd. the thought made her smile.

silence slipped over there conversation and nephele was content to let it do so. she would remain in the company of cole until their responsibilities pulled them elsewhere.

thank you for the thread/spree <3