Bearclaw Valley Clash of kings

Cole nodded in agreement, his golden gaze steady as it met Tvar’s. Quiet’s good... but maybe too good, he said, voice low, his words thoughtful. He shifted his weight slightly, rolling his shoulders as if mirroring Tvar's own movements.

Shouldn’t hurt to be ready. In case somethin’ decides to stir.

He let the words hang for a moment, his eyes glancing briefly toward the treeline. Then, with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, Up for a spar? Could keep us sharp, just in case.

There was no mockery in his tone—just a quiet suggestion, practical and straightforward, as was his nature. Cole’s stance remained relaxed, though there was a subtle shift in his posture, hinting at readiness.