Bramblepoint when the cold wind is a'calling

Cole straightened up, an unmistakable glimmer of pride lingering in his dark eyes at Arnarkla's quiet acknowledgment. He had, indeed, "got it." And perhaps he enjoyed the small, fleeting spotlight more than he let on, even if it came at the expense of her comfort. Still, he’d done his part, and that was what mattered.

The unexpected guest—the ginger and white wolf—had stepped forward with such softness that Cole’s natural suspicion of strangers eased slightly, though he kept a wary eye on her. She didn’t seem threatening, more curious than anything else, and her gentle manner suggested she was as much a wanderer as they were.

Forest does have a way of bringing us together, he replied with a hint of amusement in his accent-laden drawl, his dark gaze flickering over her with interest. You come through here often?

A pause lingered. He shuffled closer to Arnarkla, something protective ebbing within him. Then, he asked, Got a name, stranger?