Bearclaw Valley remember me,

There was a kinship he found in Nephele. She spoke of reverence, of vulnerability with her daughters. He swallowed a tight knot, thinking of his own lil' girl, lost to the flames long ago. But the vision was replaced with a rose tint, scent wafting of Anatolia. A new kind of love, found deep within the chasm of his heart.
But that is not the kind of love that he referred to. She knew this. He knew this.
Not worthy—? He held back the urge to scoff, but rendered a curious raise of his brow. Still, he said nothing. Consoltation was not his strong suit; he was more a toned heap of bones, meshed and compiled with blood tainting his every move.
If anything, he didn't deserve it.
If y'ever find yourself wantin' t'risk it again, he breathed, you know where t'find me.