Bearclaw Valley one voice tells me that they laugh

Cole had been wandering the edge of Bearclaw Valley, a bone clenched firmly between his teeth. It was a fresh one, smooth and strong, meant as a replacement for the one he’d given Anatolia before. He had noticed it had worn down the last time he saw her, and though he wasn’t the type to dote, he figured it’d give her something to keep her busy.

He sniffed the air and caught her scent, mingled with an edge he couldn’t quite place—something sharper, unsettled. His pace quickened, and soon enough, he spotted her. But Anatolia looked... different. Changed. Her usual fire seemed dimmed, replaced by a stormy weight in her gaze.

He approached her with a low chuff, dropping the bone at her feet with a soft thud. His amber eyes flicked over her, noting her tense posture and distant expression.

What’s goin’ on, lil' girl? he asked, his voice even but laced with curiosity. There was no accusation in his tone, but the question hung heavy between them. Cole wasn’t one for prying, but something about her now made it hard not to.