Bearclaw Valley whole lotta love

finding those tokens! attn: @Ameline ; got the conch, bluejay skull, bluejay feathers as well as hawk and crow.

The rogue needed time away. He needed the solitude, craved it, and found himself on the stretch of land near the rivers that flowed from the open ocean, little to his knowledge. Whilst the water ran salt free, there had been trinkets that washed upon the riverbed shores.
A conch shell.
He thought Winslet would like it. The curves of the shell, the shape, how it smelled so densely of salt and crustaceans. He knew that atop her injuries, she missed home. But he was determined to make this home for her, and not a place of nightmares. Of fear.
Though it is he who is feared. It is @Tvar who is feared.
Picking up the shell with his teeth, lodged firm in his gentle, but haughty grasp, he'd turn back to the woods. Lingering there, on the treeline, had been a skull. Small, bird like, beak still intact with the spine still ebbing from the apex.
A blue jay.
Vermin birds. He raised a lip, but picked it up as well. Ameline may like this. She kind of liked these symbolic things.
Lucky for him, there'd been bluejay feathers along side it. Tucked away from where the wind could sweep them away in their current. He took those, too.
There were other feathers that he'd picked up along his way back. A lot of them. He looked like a bird himself!

Whilst the rogue searched for tokens that might eventually be given out to his packmates, Ameline searched for the one that would be presented to the man when he earned his promotion. It only felt right, after all, that the token for a wolf of higher ranks be found by the leadership. 

Two skulls would need to be found, or sourced- finding one would be trickier, but it would mean that the bones would potentially already be cleaned. Fortunately, Ameline knew she had slain a fox once, in the valley- and had buried its remains before they could stink.

She’d scuffled through top layers of soil for a few days until she found a patch where the earth smelled more musty. Eventually, she unearthed it- and while it was full of earth and its jaw was frozen shut, she knew it would be useable. She would clean and prepare it herself.

She stashed it in her den, and feeling that her mission had been successful, she sought out Cole, with the intention of an update on Winslet’s health- only to find him sporting a variety of colours, borrowed from the feathers he had tucked into his fur.

Go with the blue, She said, lifting a paw to point to one of the blue jay feathers. It compliment-th the warm colourth in your fur. She chuckled.

He didn't intend to stumble upon the Regina, but her presence was a welcome one. He now found himself enjoying the company of both of them, not just as leaders, but as some sorta...friends.
It was the first time his face chalked up a smile within the past few days, too.
Thought they'd be good, uh, trinkets...totems, he said, glancing down at the skull he placed before her feet.
The shell lingered there, too, but he may have been...more than partial to keep that for himself. It would be up to the Regina, though.
Take my mind off of...everythin'.

Tokenth, yeth, She murmured, to reinforce the pack’s names for such things. You’ve done well- very well, She praised, as she looked from one token to the next. Pretty feathers, and a blue jay skull- she wasn’t sure how long it might take to find something so specific and thus, it became the prize find. Then, of course, the shell. Her envious gaze fell upon it, but darkened slightly.

Ancelin had given her a shell once- a shell whose inside was as blue as her eyes. Now she would be gifting shells to other wolves, and she couldn’t help but feel conflicted. This shell was beautiful- almost too pretty to be given to someone for their rank, lest it put her own, treasured mollusk to shame. 

She would have to come up with some reason to refuse it- but became distracted by the tired tone of Cole’s voice, and the bleak connotation of his words. Havin’ “everything” on your mind ith a dangerouth patht-time, She chimed. You worryin’ about Winthlet an’ the coyoteth, or ith there thomethin’ elthe?

Cole nodded slowly, eyes drifting over the tokens he had gathered, though his mind was far from feathers and shells. Her praise was noted, appreciated in its own quiet way, but it didn’t lighten the weight he carried.
Winslet, he said simply, voice low, a rough edge to it. She was always on his mind.
The coyotes. The dangers that lurked beyond their little haven. He couldn’t shake the thought of something—anything—taking her from him. The idea sat like a stone in his chest.
She’s got a soft heart, he murmured after a pause, gaze settling on Ameline. I just want to keep her safe. Keep all this safe. He gestured faintly to the tokens, but his meaning was broader—the pack, the life they were building.
His jaw set, the faintest crease forming between his brows. But I know worryin’ don’t get me far. So I’ll keep busy instead.

Ameline was reassured, partially, to hear that she'd guessed correctly, and that he was not preoccupied by something else. A light smile found its way to her lips as she nodded slightly. She had had time to wonder who might end up winning the man's heart- he was worthy of the attention he'd received, but Ameline had begun to wonder if his desirability might cause some drama within the pack. It was a relief to hear that he'd potentially made his choice, though it didn't necessarily mean women might stop swooning over him. 

Worryin'th jutht a part of caring for thomeone. She said softly. An' she'll be alright, She reassured him. She'll heal, an' we'll take thothe coyoteth an' turn 'em inthide out, The softness from her voice faded to stern confidence, and her eyes hardened for a moment, before she blinked, and became herself once again. I wouldn't be havin' kidth here if I didn't think it'd be thafe.

Cole’s gaze softened as Ameline spoke, his shoulders easing beneath the weight of her words. She always had a way of grounding him, reminding him of the strength that still existed in quiet moments.
I reckon you’re right, he murmured, offering a small, appreciative nod. Worryin’... yeah, I suppose that’s just part of it. Can’t be helped. His golden eyes drifted toward the treeline, the thought of Winslet laid up still gnawing at the edges of his mind. But hearing Ameline say she’d be alright—that meant something. It meant hope.
And we’ll get 'em, he agreed, his voice steady now. Those damn coyotes won’t see the next sunrise if I have any say.
At her last words, something like a smile tugged at the corner of his scarred muzzle.
He paused, looking back to her fully, sincerity clear in the gold of his eyes. Thank you, Ameline. Really.