Bearclaw Valley what's fine

tvar followed alongside cole, snow crunching audibly beneath his weight. his sharp hazel eyes swept the treeline, routine procedure that was nothing more than a boring drill. yet he spared no expense as to skip it.

“aye.” he mumbles, nods, in agreeance. his gaze shifted briefly to cole before returning to the path ahead. he knew better than to let his guard down along the borders. quiet could mean calm, or it could mean a pack of rabid rogues waiting for the right moment.

he sniffed the air, noting nothing out of place, before falling back into his steady rhythm. his breath rose in faint clouds, the cold air sharp against his lungs.