Bearclaw Valley one voice tells me that they laugh

Cole hummed lowly at the nip, glancing back over his shoulder to meet Anatolia's gaze. There was a quiet warmth to his expression, but his brow arched slightly, curiosity flickering in his amber eyes as he followed her focus.

He saw them then—faint, fresh tracks pressed into the snow, their pattern unmistakable.

Hare, he murmured, his voice steady but light. His gaze shifted back to her, weighing her for a moment. You wanna try for it? he asked, his tone carrying just enough challenge to spark her interest.

He stepped aside slightly, gesturing with a subtle motion of his muzzle toward the trail ahead, giving her the lead should she want to take it.