Bearclaw Valley In this world, it's just us

Cole grumbled low under his breath but didn’t protest further. He eased himself down into the snow with a wince, the sting of his injuries making themselves known as his weight shifted. The chill of the snow nipping at his fur wasn’t entirely unwelcome—it soothed the ache somewhat.

I ain’t complainin’, he muttered, voice rough but tinged with reluctant gratitude. You seem to know what you’re doin’, so have at it.

As Rala worked, his amber eyes narrowed slightly, catching a faint scent on the wind—something familiar, but not entirely welcome. He tilted his head toward her, curiosity flickering across his expression.

Why d’you smell like Dolce and Tvar? he asked gruffly, his tone laced with a faint edge of suspicion. Been keepin’ busy, huh?