Blackfoot Forest Wanderin'

Tvar blinked at Cole’s reaction, his ears twitching slightly at the low huff of laughter. For a moment, his sharp features softened, and his mouth pulled into a faint, sheepish smile. “It’s... a lot, I suppose,” he admitted, his tone carrying a note of dry humor. “But what can I say? I seem to be full of surprises—mostly for myself.”

He let the quiet linger for a beat, then shook his head lightly, brushing a few snowflakes from his fur. “I suppose staying or going depends on what I find,” he continued, his voice composed but tinged with honesty. “I’ve been walking for so long now, I’m not even sure I’d know what it means to stop.”

Tvar exhaled softly, the mist of his breath curling in the cold air. “For now, I suppose I’m just... here,” he said, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his expression. “Figuring out what that means might take a little longer.”

He looked to the other brute then, eyeballing the man as if sizing him up. He was strong, hardy. Tvar couldn't help the small twinge of curiosity about this man, and this Bearclaw Valley he mentioned. "If I don't know who I am, I guess that means I should start over. You can call me Tvar."