Bearclaw Valley up the wolves

he isn’t pressing, not really. it’s more of a gentle prod, testing the surface of her walls without trying to break through them. you don’t like being seen, then? he asks after a moment, tilting his head slightly to glance at her again. there’s no judgment in his voice, just a calm curiosity. that's a shame, kid. you remind me of your móðir.

he shifts his weight slightly, his gaze flicking toward the snow-dusted treeline beyond them. shadow or not, everyone benefits from a good patrol.

his blue eyes meet hers once more. come on. let’s see if your shadowing skills hold up out here.