Bitterroot Valley you said you'd always be there for me

she hummed softly, her gaze drifting between the rabbit pelt and the meager bundle of herbs she sorted through. each leaf and stem seemed to carry the weight of winter’s scarcity, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she mulled over his question.

not enough, she murmured, her voice gentle but laced with quiet resignation. her paw moved to tuck the herbs back into their bundle with care. but— her gaze lifted to meet his, a faint smile tugging at her. he almost looked like a seal! that is winter. it tests us. we endure.

her eyes softened as she nudged the rabbit pelt closer to him, offering its warmth without words. she watched him with a quiet fondness as he shifted in the snow, his movements playful despite the somber air of their task. the resilience in him was something she admired, even if he didn’t see it himself.