Bearclaw Valley I'm gonna send you back to schoolin',

Cole grunted softly as the little bodies collided with him, one after another—warm, giggling chaos. A bear cub to the ribs, a pup climbing up his side like a mountain. He didn’t flinch, didn’t bat them off—just let them clamber, arms steady as fence posts while a rare smile tugged at the corners of his worn, weathered face.
Well, look who’s trainin’ for the militia, he muttered dryly, voice rasped like gravel on old wood, but there was warmth there too. He ruffled the nearest pup’s ears and gave the bear cub a firm pat on the back, steadying its balance.
Then his eyes lifted. Serious again.
Ameline, he greeted her with a quiet nod as she approached, his tone shifting into something level and sure. He waited a moment, made sure the young ones were distracted enough playing around his legs before continuing. There’s news. Met a man out past the stone circle. Another one. Bigger than the last.
A beat. His jaw tightened slightly.
Didn’t speak much. Claimed the land was his now. He paused again, dark eyes finding hers.