Fox's Glade returners

The days had been long, filled with bruises and bloodshed. Cole wore his injuries like a second skin—fresh scrapes across his ribs, a shallow gash on his flank. Nothing serious enough to keep him down, but enough to leave him aching. The rough, unkind rhythm of Bearclaw life hadn’t paused for a moment, and yet, his thoughts had wandered often. Back to the glade. Back to her.

@Winslet.

He found himself walking there now, steps heavy but purposeful, amber eyes scanning the horizon. The glade opened up before him, serene and quiet under the late morning light, the frost glinting like shards of glass across the open expanse. It was far from Bearclaw's rugged cliffs and dense woods—a rare kind of peace he hadn’t known he’d needed until he’d stumbled upon it with her.

A low grunt escaped him as he shifted his weight, his ribs reminding him of the scuffle that had painted his days red. But still, he moved forward, drawn by something he couldn’t quite name.

Reaching the center of the glade, Cole exhaled and scanned the space. He wasn’t sure if she’d come, but he’d wait. The quiet suited him, even if she didn’t appear. But deep down, he hoped.