Bearclaw Valley Clash of kings

“Quiet,” Tvar replied, his voice low, carrying the faint rasp of wear from the day’s patrol. “Too quiet, maybe. No fresh trails, no disturbances.” He shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension from hours spent moving through the forest.

“If there’s trouble out there, it’s waiting for another day.”

His gaze flicked briefly to the treeline before returning to Cole, his posture relaxed but not careless. “And you?” he asked simply, his words easy, each syllable grounded.

“Big guy like yourselfs been keeping busy, I assume.”