Fox's Glade to me, from the timbers,

"he's tough, loyal," dolce rumbled in agreement, his words tinged with approval. cole was a strong man, southern like himself—they'd talked little, but he had the potential to become a friend. a brother. one that could be trusted, unlike the many men he used to call kin. truth was, is that cole is who the outlaw wished he could be; a reliable, dependable guard. unwavering in strength, unshaken. 

perhaps if he'd achieved that likeness, he'd be the man rala deserves. 

"and he was. he didn't mention you were here—guess i just got lucky." the corners of his lips tugged into a rugged smile, but a genuine one. he'd missed the dove; such a strange sensation, but one he couldn't deny. "'m glad you're here. happy i found you." 

there's a pause. he'd never been soft or good with words of affection, had never worn his heart on his sleeve. but she made him feel brave enough to do so. or perhaps foolish enough. 

"been thinkin' 'bout you, ever since that walk." sincere, almost as gentle as he could speak. he hoped she'd felt the same. "how 'bout we go on one again? for old times sake."