Mudminnow River so far away

Cole gave a small grunt of approval, motioning with a subtle tilt of his head for Dolce to follow. His broad frame shifted easily through the snow, paws crunching against the frozen ground as he began the trek back toward Bearclaw Valley.

Come on, then, he muttered, glancing over his shoulder briefly to ensure Dolce kept pace. The quiet confidence in his stride spoke volumes—this was his home, his territory, and he carried it with pride.

As the distant scent of Bearclaw's borders grew stronger, Cole's posture relaxed slightly, though his sharp gaze remained alert. He didn’t speak much on the way, letting the promise of warmth and safety at the valley speak for itself.