Bearclaw Valley cigarettebud

Cole scoffed, a dry chuckle rumbling from his chest. It ain't easy work, but it's good, he replied, his tone as steady as the mountain he'd grown up on. His gaze shifted momentarily to the treetops, recalling the encounter that had left its mark—both on his face and his mood. Fools like that... makes you wonder how they make it this far without learnin' the rules.

He leaned back slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he met Ameline's gaze. Her words, despite their bite, carried an undercurrent of appreciation that softened his irritation.

You always got a way of puttin' things straight, he added, his voice low but laced with a wry warmth. Guess it takes more than a bit of blood to make 'em see sense.

After a beat of silence, his expression turned thoughtful, a hint of curiosity creeping into his tone. What d'you know 'bout Kvarsheim? He tilted his head slightly, watching her closely. A lil' girl from their corner was askin' about us.