Wapun Meadow running home, running home

She was stubborn—always had been—and he couldn’t fault her for it, not really. It was something he admired, even if it grated on him in moments like these.
You ain’t gotta...be like that with me, Rala, he said, his voice low, steady, and just a touch gruff. His eyes lingered on her for a beat longer, but when she didn’t look his way, he finally gave a small shake of his head and turned to the carcass.
Lowering his muzzle, Cole began to eat, tearing into the flesh with practiced efficiency. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying her words. I will be fine. She always said that, and hell, maybe she would be—but it didn’t stop him from worrying.
The silence stretched between them, comfortable for her, maybe, but heavy for him. Finally, after a few moments, he muttered around a mouthful of meat, You ain’t gotta carry it all yourself, you know. Not with me around.
He didn’t press further. Cole wasn’t the type to push past walls unless they needed breaking, but his tone carried the weight of his meaning. If she wouldn’t let him help now, he’d still be there when she needed him. Even if it was the job of her mate, he was a man that covered it all.

cheers: MORE YAPPING (not too much, but im around to spree)