Bearclaw Valley sidegoss

@Milan ; tag for mention

Cole sat beneath the shelter of a low-hanging pine, the sharp scent of its needles mingling with the crisp air around him. His amber eyes were focused, intent on the task before him. In his steady paws, a small, smoothed bone rested, the edges slowly taking shape as he worked a crude carving tool over its surface.

The quiet scrape of the tool against bone was the only sound he allowed himself to hear, drowning out the distant murmur of the forest. His expression was calm, yet there was a faint softness to the way he handled each piece, as though the work carried more weight than it seemed.

One figurine was nearly finished, a rough but recognizable shape of a wolf emerging from the ivory surface. It wasn’t perfect—his carvings rarely were—but it held a charm, a warmth that came from the effort alone. These weren’t meant to impress anyone, least of all himself.

They were for @Anatolia.

She had kept herself busy in the new year, hopping from place to place ensuring she met each new member that she knew of. Above all else it was a distraction while she waited for Frederick. She could listen to any wolf speak their troubles, but there were few who she considered friends.

Trotting through the snow she spotted Cole sat beneath a tree, a curious task sat at his paws. Her low tail cocking momentarily, she soon approached.

What is it that you're working on, Cole? She kept some distance, aware that she may be disturbing him - but she was yet to see a wolf do such a strange thing.

The guard glanced up as Milan approached, his amber eyes steady but carrying a flicker of acknowledgment at her question. He shifted slightly, his paw brushing against the small figurines lined neatly beside him.

Uh… just makin’ some lil’ things, he said, his voice calm, the faintest hint of sheepishness threading through his tone. He gestured with his muzzle toward the carvings. For one of Nephele’s girls. Thought she might like ’em.

His gaze dropped back to the figurine he was working on, the edges still rough but slowly taking shape under his careful touch. Nothin’ I can't do later. Y'alright? he added, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to dismiss the significance of his task. But the care in his work said otherwise.

With a nod of acknowledgement and a smile, her head lowers to take a closer look. They're sweet.. I didn't know you had this sort of talent. A craftswoman could see the care put into his work, whether he tried to brush it off or not.

I'm just fine, keeping myself busy. Momentarily her eyes drifted to the border; towards Swiftcurrent Creek.

But what are the gifts for? Are you trying to get on her good side? She hoped she wasn't being too nosey, but she was far more interested in Cole's life than speaking of her own.

Cole chuckled softly at her comment, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Thanks, he said, his tone light, though he gave a small shrug as if to downplay the compliment.

Nah, he added, glancing down at the small figurines lined up beside him. Ain’t about that. I just think the girl needs someone, is all. His amber eyes flicked back to Milan, steady and calm, but there was a quiet weight to his words that hinted at more than he was saying.

He shifted slightly, brushing a bit of dust from his latest carving before setting it down. Figured this might brighten her day some, he finished, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

His words were kind, they made her smile. Gently, she bumps herself into his shoulder. I never took you for the fatherly type, Cole. It's a good look on you. That was what it seemed to be in her eyes, at least.

But it looks like you have something on your mind. She says now, tail curling around herself. It's strange; it feels like usually she's the one talking about her issues.

She likes it far better this way.

Thanks, he said simply, his voice warm but tinged with a thoughtful undertone.

He let her words linger in the air for a moment, his gaze drifting off to the horizon. Dunno, he admitted, the weight of his thoughts clear in his tone. Nature’s takin’ its toll, I reckon. Feels like there’s always somethin’ pulling at me, one way or another.

He exhaled softly, shifting his weight as his eyes flicked back to her, gratitude and quiet appreciation evident in his expression. But… you’re not wrong. Guess it’s just one of those days.