Bearclaw Valley birds of a feather

winslet my beloved

the face of a woman in awe was not unrecognisable to the woman who found herself infatuated with a man of her own. a knowing smile grew upon her pale face, but she would refrain from saying anything, for the newcomer was still young, and @Cole seemed much too old for her. double her age, it seemed, though her brows rose at the thought of cole, the self-proclaimed 'bad man', finding love.

but she thought, then, of the own gap within her relationship. whether cole's and winslet's bordered on normal or controversial was uncertain to her ; perhaps it was the youthful glow, the thin bones and the shy demeanor of the woman that made her seem younger. as if she were truly but a girl ; without pain, without loss. she hummed.

ancelin is a good man, agreed the snowwoman. it seemed that the aforementioned resident bad-boy seemed to have the rex as his go-to when it came to indoctrinating strays into the valley, for she had the very same experience hardly a moon ago. as long as your formal joining was not too hard, then there is nothing to worry about, conversation-wise. there is not much to be said during a first meeting, wisdom lacing her tongue. as if she were older than her years. there is always time.

and she gave a careful nod. you do not have to know, yet, came gentle words, guiding. now, nanuralaaq stood. they could wander through the valley as they chatted, so that winslet may familiarise herself with the lay of the land that was now her home ; a flick of her tail beckoned the girl to follow along. whether you want to hunt, heal, counsel, fight, or guard, her words were melodic, almost sing-song. there will be a place for you. even if you wish to do something more, like bring forth life to the valley, there was a twinge of humour in her voice as she said such a thing.

with a breath, nanuralaaq led the woman to her den. would you like to den near me, winslet? my mate, dolce, dens nearby, also. that way, you will not be alone.