Bearclaw Valley bluegrass

Cole stood near the entrance of the den, his broad frame partially blocking the cold draft that whistled through the trees. The place was sturdy, well-sheltered, nestled between a cluster of thick roots that curled like protective arms around the space. It smelled of damp earth and pine, with just enough room for the two of them to settle in comfortably.
His sharp eyes flicked to @Winslet, watching her as she moved, taking in the way she examined their temporary home. He was quiet for a long moment, letting her take it in, letting himself take her in. The soft glow of her fur in the fading light, the gentle rise and fall of her breath.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low, rough around the edges. You like it? He shifted his weight slightly, tilting his head toward her. Or y'want one by the river?