Bearclaw Valley round town

Cole watched her carefully, noting the small shifts in her posture—the tightness in her jaw, the flick of her eyes as if the answer she was looking for might be out there somewhere in the valley.
He understood that feeling.
Grief sat heavy in his chest, not fresh, but familiar. Worn in like an old coat, something he carried without complaint because there was no other choice.
So when she finally spoke, when her voice softened into something uncertain, something quieter—like she wished she had an answer but didn’t—he simply nodded. Slow. Steady.
Yeah.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough. An acknowledgment. A shared understanding.
His gaze shifted past her, out over the land they called home. He’d been in places like this before, but never quite like this. It was different.
He exhaled, scratching idly at the ground with one paw, letting the silence settle between them for a moment before speaking again.
Whad'dya need then, a friend?
Not an offer. Not charity. Just a plain, simple question. Because he figured if she did, she wouldn’t ask.