Bearclaw Valley hunters

tvar watches cole with mild amusement, noting the disdain in the other man’s gesture. we will, his gaze drifts to the pile of skulls.

he moves to adjust a spike that’s shifted slightly. his paw drags through the frozen dirt, leveling it. then, back to rooting through cold earth he goes. stopping to sniff and search at the base of a tree. ah, a feather! he plucks it with shiny teeth.

how’s winslet? he asks abruptly, breaking the silence. not out of courtesy but curiosity—he knows cole’s been keeping a close eye on the girl since the attack. he glances back, a soft tease present in those hazel eyes. gonna pop the question when she's better?