Duck Lake you're the prayer inside me

N-Nanuralaaq, he repeated, though his southern drawl tangled the syllables, leaving the name heavier and less melodic than intended. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, his ears flicking in mild self-deprecation. I'll...uh, try m'best.

He shifted his weight, shaking some of the snow from his thick pelt before meeting her gaze again. I’m Cole, he introduced simply, the deep timbre of his voice as steady as the man himself. Bearclaw Valley’s where I’m from—my pack. He gestured with a slight nod of his head in the direction of the distant territory, though the name itself carried the weight of a place firmly rooted in his identity.

You did good with that duck, he added after a beat, nudging her catch lightly with his paw. For a lil cub. There was a teasing warmth in his tone, his green eyes bright with humor as he glanced back at her.