Bearclaw Valley for every life,

i will take you to mine. he knew she hadn't meant in the way he'd hoped, and yet, it still made his dormant heart throb. nearly painfully so—an invitation that one day, heaven be so kind, that meant he could stay. he found himself at a loss with words, maw agape like a fool. she still continued to surprise him, to sink those little hooks of hers into his skin. 

she knew now that he'd follow wherever she'd lead him, as if she was a siren guiding him out to sea. he'd happily drown. with a wag of his short tail, the outlaw lumbered after her, oaken eyes shamelessly admiring the sway of her hips, the grace of her steps. what a woman. 

he knew better than to leer, though. with practiced restraint, he let his eyes fall to the hollowed hearth she claimed as her own. her sweet scent, now stronger than ever, was one he inhaled greedily, selfishly. he admired how simplistic it was, and already in his mind did he imagine that come spring, she'd truly make it her own. 

he would help. "reckon i could catch ya some nice pelts. dunno 'bout flower pickin', but..." dolce trailed off with a chuckle. she'd know very well that if she wished for him to help her collect flowers and other pretty things she likes, all she'd have to do is ask. she deserved the finest silks, the freshest foliage and lillies. perhaps he was already becoming too soft, but that's what hooked him; she'd brought out parts of him he didn't know existed. 

his den. right. that was the question. his eyes searched, and the brazen man found himself near tentative, bashful. he found himself wanting to respect her boundaries, found himself caring if he'd come off too strong in hoping he could den beside her. near her. 

so he lumbered to the right, a few paces away, conservative enough to not cross any lines she might have drawn. earth between two boulders, a chasm that he could dig too accommodate his size. he'd never had a den. always just slept in the open plains, beneath the stars. he didn't know if he'd like such closed quarters, but he'd give it a shot. 

"this look good?" he grumbled, shooting her an inquisitive look from over a broad shoulder. he sought her approval, before he'd get to work. if she agreed, he'd grin. "let's get to work then, dove." a silent invitation for her to join him in digging his new home.