Bearclaw Valley all i want

Cole hesitated.
The scent of blood was thick, cloying, still warm where it soaked into the earth. He had taken it down, brought it to her, but eating felt different. Felt like something he wasn’t ready for.
His gaze flickered to Winslet, soft where she pressed against him, her touch light but intentional. She had eaten, but there was still something fragile in the way she curled into his side, like she needed him to do this, to share in it.
He exhaled through his nose, a quiet, begrudging sound, before he finally leaned down, tearing into the meat with slow, easy bites. The taste was rich, thick on his tongue, but he swallowed it without complaint.
A few bites. Enough to satisfy her.
His muzzle lifted, dark eyes meeting hers. The faintest trace of red stained his lips, and he swiped his tongue over them, the gesture almost idle.
Happy now? His voice was low, rough—but there was no real bite to it.
He let himself settle then, closer to her, against her warmth. Maybe she needed this. Maybe he did, too.