Bearclaw Valley I'm gonna send you back to schoolin',

The mist hadn’t lifted since dawn.
Cole returned to Bearclaw with mud on his paws and silence clinging to him like a second pelt. His gait was steady, though his eyes—gold and weather-beaten—held a tension that hadn’t been there the day before. Something in the way he carried his shoulders said enough: this was not a routine patrol.
He’d met a man in the glade. No words. No name. But his presence had spoken volumes.
Broad. Blooded. Voiceless. Dangerous.
Cole didn’t trust the quiet ones. He was one himself.
He moved through the thinned underbrush near the denning slopes, breath fogging in the cool spring air. A raven croaked above. He flicked an ear but didn’t stop. Not until he came to the place where their leaders often gathered when the frost light filtered just right through the canopy.
There, he planted his paws and raised his muzzle. A low, gravel-cut howl echoed from his chest—not urgent, but pointed. Summons for either @Ameline or @Ancelin. Whichever came first.

The whole clan was out of the den- roused early enough so that their day could be full, an afternoon nap could be expected, and then after a few meals and a good bout of brawling and racing, they could go to sleep just to wake up at dusk and begin the process again. 

Four pups and a cub were busy work- but by the time summer warmth came, they would be more mobile, and would be given the freedom to roam within the valley; then, they wouldn’t have to supervise the kids like hawks because they wouldn’t be small enough to be carried off by one. 

A call came; the Bearclaws shared a glance. I’ll take thith one, She said. An’ I’ll take…thith one an’ thith one, She said, patting a paw on the two nearest children- Ahni and Alf. She kissed her husband, ruffled the fur of the three wolf pups he would mind, and she set off for the clearing with Ahniska and Auberon in tow. 

Cole’s tone had been serious, but she sought a moment of levity; once the man came into sight, she gave each child a prod. Get ‘im, She said, and sent the giggling children- both bear and wolf- off on a wobbly lope toward the Hedrogue while she followed behind at a relaxed walk.

Cole grunted softly as the little bodies collided with him, one after another—warm, giggling chaos. A bear cub to the ribs, a pup climbing up his side like a mountain. He didn’t flinch, didn’t bat them off—just let them clamber, arms steady as fence posts while a rare smile tugged at the corners of his worn, weathered face.
Well, look who’s trainin’ for the militia, he muttered dryly, voice rasped like gravel on old wood, but there was warmth there too. He ruffled the nearest pup’s ears and gave the bear cub a firm pat on the back, steadying its balance.
Then his eyes lifted. Serious again.
Ameline, he greeted her with a quiet nod as she approached, his tone shifting into something level and sure. He waited a moment, made sure the young ones were distracted enough playing around his legs before continuing. There’s news. Met a man out past the stone circle. Another one. Bigger than the last.
A beat. His jaw tightened slightly.
Didn’t speak much. Claimed the land was his now. He paused again, dark eyes finding hers.

Her silly youngsters clamoured about the scout, bringing a smile to Ameline’s face. Heaviness weighted the air, its mark in the corners of Cole’s eyes, and the creasing of fur in his brow. She motioned aside for the two girls, so they could direct their energy toward one another; the bear cub was kept in the corner of her mother’s eye. She would inherit strength that could show at any point- and she did not intend to let her wolf children suffer for it. 

The stone circle- Ancelin had mentioned to her the falling of Kvarsheim. 

A new king had come to claim his seat- but this loner seemed to worry Cole.

Jutht one man? She confirmed. Kvarsheim hath fallen, tho the land out that way…Ith unclaimed. It might be challenged one day if the thonth of Kvarsheim return, but…That’th the nature of it. She said. Howevuh…You theem contherned about him. She arched her brow, hoping he might elaborate.

Cole’s broad frame shifted as he watched the girls tumble off, a small smile flickering briefly across his scarred face—but it didn’t last. His eyes turned back to Ameline, the lines around them deepened by something weightier than time.
Yeah, he said, low and gravelled. Just one man. Big as hell. Looked like he was carved outta the mountain.
His tail twitched once behind him, but otherwise he remained still, save for the faint clenching of his jaw. Didn’t say much. Not like he needed to. Carried the same scent as the one I met a few days prior—another brute. Silent type. Carrion on the wind, same as this one.
He exhaled through his nose, gaze shifting to the west. These ain’t your regular roamers. They’re soldiers. Northern, I think. Bled in wars. The kind that don't walk away from fights—they end 'em.
A beat passed.
I don’t know what they want yet. But they’re settin' roots where the blood’s still fresh. Makes me wonder if they’re buildin’ something. Or waitin’ for the next to come knockin’.