Blackfoot Forest Wanderin'

Tvar inclined his head slightly at the introduction, his posture easing though his bearing remained composed. “And you, Cole,” he replied, his tone precise but softened by a hint of warmth.

As Cole spoke, Tvar’s blue eyes lingered on him, sharp but attentive. There was something steady in the way Cole carried himself, an unspoken strength that reminded Tvar of the certainty he’d once known—whatever that had been. His lips quirked faintly at the mention of places that made you stop, though the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I imagine places like that are rare,” Tvar said after a pause, his voice thoughtful. “Where the ground feels... permanent. Worth standing on.”

He shifted slightly, his gaze following Cole’s toward the horizon, where the mist began to thin. There was a flicker of something in his expression—longing, perhaps, or just exhaustion—but it vanished as quickly as it came.

At Cole’s question, Tvar turned back to him, his jaw tightening briefly as he considered his words. “Answers would be a start,” he admitted. "Though, I doubt I'll find them. I can't help but feel that's a good thing." His expression turned sour, then.