Bearclaw Valley flying high

Tvar stood beside Cole, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the valley below. The sight was unlike anything he’d seen on his long and aimless journey—towering pines stretching toward the heavens. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered, taking in the scene with a mixture of curiosity and... something else.

When Cole’s howl cut through the air, Tvar’s ears flicked back instinctively. As if he hadn't been expecting it, for some reason. He glanced at Cole as the call faded, noting the way he stood—steady, assured, as though this valley was an extension of himself. It was a look Tvar envied but wouldn’t admit to.

He shifted his weight, the frost clinging to his fur catching the fading sunlight as he turned his attention back to the valley. “It isn't what I expected,” he said quietly, his tone measured but sincere. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he added, “Better, though. Much better.”

He fell silent after that, his gaze scanning the horizon for any sign of movement.

There was a tension in him now, not quite anxiety but close, as he waited to meet the wolf who would decide whether this valley could truly be the solid ground he needed—or just another place to pass through.