Bearclaw Valley Will

Cole stood rigid, his broad frame an imposing shield between the stranger and Nephele’s daughter. His amber eyes, narrowed with suspicion, bore into the male who had introduced himself with talk of crowns and goodwill. The dead badger caught his attention briefly—impressive for its size but insufficient to smooth his skepticism.

You’ve got business with the crown, Cole repeated slowly, his deep drawl laced with doubt. His gaze flicked down to the badger before returning to the rogue. And this here’s your peace offering?

The corners of his mouth tugged downward as he glanced back to Zephyra. The pup, ever defiant, was still wrestling with the carcass. He caught the brief flash of her tongue aimed at the stranger, though she was quick to mask it when his eyes landed on her again.

Zephyra, leave it, he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. Go on back to your ma. This ain’t your problem.

Turning his full attention to the male, Cole’s hackles bristled slightly, though his stance remained measured. You wanna foster goodwill, you can start by waiting right here. He let the weight of his presence hang in the air for a moment before throwing his head back in a low, steady howl, summoning either the Regina or the Rex.

Once his call faded into the distance, Cole leveled the rogue with an unflinching stare. You’re lucky I’m not in a mood to turn you away outright. But don’t try nothin’ stupid while we wait.

@Ameline @Ancelin