Bearclaw Valley stay close with your wounded eyes

Cole gave a short shrug, the barest twitch of one scarred shoulder as he kept his eyes forward, steady on the path. His breath curled in the cold like smoke, but his voice was steady, quiet in that way it always was—measured, worn down smooth.
Mysterious? he echoed, a touch dry. Don’t think so.
He paused, the corner of his mouth tugging upward, not quite a smile, but something close. A knowing look in her direction.
Wouldn’t be much good to you if I didn’t give a shit.