Duck Lake I tell you that I'm thinking about,

Cole listened carefully, watching the hesitation flicker across Elowen’s face like shadows on water. He nodded slowly, his warm brown eyes softening in understanding. Whatever her reasons—whether it was fear, doubt, or loyalty to someone else—he wouldn’t press her. Everyone had their paths to walk, and hers was clearly still winding.

Fair enough, he said, his voice gentle but firm. Sometimes it ain’t about keeping up, but finding where you’re meant to be. Sounds like you’ve got someone who’d miss you. His mouth curved into a small, reassuring smile. That’s worth holdin’ onto.

He shifted his weight, the cache of ducks at his paws a silent reminder of the work he still had ahead of him. With a slight dip of his head, he started to gather them up. Good luck to you, Elowen, he said, his tone carrying a quiet sincerity. Hope you find what you’re lookin’ for.

With that, Cole turned, his sturdy frame moving back toward Bearclaw Valley. The faint scent of pine and distant water mingled with the breeze as he left her behind, her decision respected, her company appreciated, if only for a little while.