Firefly Glen Take you like a drug;

Cole stood rooted in the clearing, the stillness around him broken only by the quiet rustle of the trees and the lingering scent of his freshly caught rabbit. His gaze swept over the landscape, scanning the shadows and the rocky outcrops nearby, yet he caught no movement. The air was thick with the scent of another wolf, layered beneath the wild tang of the rabbit. Someone was near—hungry, perhaps cautious, and lingering just beyond his line of sight.

He could hear her.

A huff flooded his hears, and he knew then for sure he wasn't losin' his mind. She was here. Waiting, stalking him.

With the rabbit dangling from his mouth, he held his ground, muscles coiled and ready but with no intention of aggression. He tipped his head slightly, speaking into the night, low and steady.

I ain't gonna hurt 'ya.