Bramblepoint when the cold wind is a'calling

Cole gave a slow nod, tipping his muzzle in acknowledgment as he listened. Gwyn’s offer sounded kind, genuine, and it softened the edges of his usual guarded expression, just a bit. Plants were hardly his area, but survival was. He respected anything that might help them scrape through when times got rough.

Reckon it’d be wise, he drawled, glancing over at Arnarkla with a hint of a smirk as she gave a shrug. It was clear she wasn’t one for plants either, yet there was a glint in her eye, that willingness to learn just in case. Cole respected that.

With a slight dip of his head, he added, We’ll take ya up on it. No fuss, no extra words—just an open acceptance of the help she offered, quiet and sincere.