Bearclaw Valley all i want

Cole moved with practiced precision, muscles coiling beneath his thick coat as he launched forward. The doe barely had time to startle before his weight crashed into her, powerful jaws clamping down around her throat. The struggle was brief—one final gasp, a desperate kick of slender legs—then stillness.
He exhaled sharply, shaking out his fur before gripping the carcass and beginning the journey back. The scent of blood filled the air as he padded toward the dens, his steps steady, determined.
When he reached Winslet, he dropped the doe at her feet, emerald eyes flickering to her face. A brief pause, then a quiet hum of satisfaction.
Eat, he murmured simply, nudging the fresh kill toward her before settling beside her, watching. Guarding.