Bearclaw Valley That I'm not the carefullest of girls

Cole’s amber gaze was cold and unyielding as Ameline spoke, her words sharp and cutting through the tension. He didn’t linger. A punishment had been decided, and it wasn’t his place to question it, especially after the intruder’s foolishness had put them all in this position. His lips curled back slightly, revealing the barest flash of his teeth, as he looked at the woman pinned below.

He moved deliberately, his paw pressing down on hers, the pressure building steadily. A muted crack echoed through the clearing, and he pulled back, watching her face for a flicker of pain. Satisfaction didn’t show on his face—this wasn’t about gratification but enforcement.

The deed done, he snarled low in his throat, turning sharply toward Rala. His voice, laced with fury and disappointment, lashed out. Stupid, stupid cub. You bring this on us, bring her here, and now we’re left dealin’ with her mess. You best hope she don’t come back, or it’s your name we’ll be speakin’ next.

Without waiting for a response, Cole stepped back, a bitter scowl on his face, and shifted his attention to Ameline for further instruction, still brimming with the raw energy of his frustration.