Firefly Glen time well met,

Bearclaw Valley, Cole uttered under his breath as they drew near, his eyes tracing the familiar rise of the mountains surrounding them, shaded in the first light of morning. A sense of belonging settled over him, like the kind of weight you welcome after a long trek. He glanced at Arnarkla with a flicker of warmth in his gaze, silently hoping she’d find something of interest here herself.

It wasn’t long before Ameline appeared, her gait easy but her eyes sharp as ever. There was a glint of understanding in her expression as she took in Arnarkla at his side, and Cole’s head dipped in respect as he greeted her.

Ameline, he said, his tone steady, respectful. This is Arnarkla. Found her wanderin' 'bouts, and I figured she ought to know what makes this place somethin’ worth comin' back to. He gestured between the two with a quiet confidence, as if the introduction was more than just words, more like a bridge that he hoped they’d both be willing to cross.

Turning his head slightly, he added with a touch of his characteristic humor, Seems you caught us on the right end of the hunt—when the valley’s got its own kind of welcome waitin’.