Bearclaw Valley you need cooling

Cole exhales slow, a deep, weary breath that carries the weight of the day with it. His hand—no, his paw, but damn if it doesn’t feel the same—rests heavy against her side, grounding himself in her warmth. He lingers in the feeling of her before he speaks, voice rough with exhaustion.
Long.
That’s all he gives at first, letting the silence settle between them like an old friend. But she knows him, knows how to wait him out, how to let the words come when they will. And so they do.
Gave Ameline a gift. A beat. He shifts slightly, gaze drawn to the river, watching as the moonlight dances across the water. While back, she asked me to go to Swiftcurrent Creek to thank 'em for... His jaw tenses, eyes flickering to her legs—scarred, healing, a reminder of what she’d been through. What he hadn’t been able to stop.
...Helpin’.
Another pause, heavier this time. There was a lot goin’ on then. Too much. But that ain’t an excuse, and he knows it.
You can come with me, if ya want. He murmurs it, not quite looking at her, but there’s something in the way he says it—an offering, a bridge. He knows she don’t need him to speak for her, to make peace on her behalf. But if she wants it, he’ll make the trip with her. Stand beside her. Whatever she needs.
And if she don’t? Well. He’ll go either way.