Bearclaw Valley so close to what

Cole’s hum was low, thoughtful, like the rumble of distant thunder rolling across a summer sky. He shifted slightly where he lay, the weight of Nephele’s question settling in the space between them. His gaze, usually sharp and assessing, softened as it drifted to the horizon.

Yeah, he began, his voice quiet but steady. Had a daughter once. A long, long time ago now.

He didn’t look at her as he spoke, the memories swirling in his mind too vivid to share fully. There was a pause, a faint shadow flickering across his expression, before he exhaled, letting the weight of the past roll off his shoulders like the breath of a burden too heavy to carry.

Anatolia, he murmured after a moment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there was a lingering wistfulness in his tone. She reminds me of her sometimes. The quiet, the way she thinks before she speaks.

He glanced back at Nephele, his gaze grounding her in the present, steady and unflinching. Guess that’s why I don’t mind her silences. Makes me feel like I’m hearin’ echoes of somethin’ I thought I’d lost.

It was as much as he was willing to share, the rare vulnerability he allowed a fleeting glimpse of before it was tucked away again, safe and secure.