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

Cole’s broad frame shifted as he watched the girls tumble off, a small smile flickering briefly across his scarred face—but it didn’t last. His eyes turned back to Ameline, the lines around them deepened by something weightier than time.
Yeah, he said, low and gravelled. Just one man. Big as hell. Looked like he was carved outta the mountain.
His tail twitched once behind him, but otherwise he remained still, save for the faint clenching of his jaw. Didn’t say much. Not like he needed to. Carried the same scent as the one I met a few days prior—another brute. Silent type. Carrion on the wind, same as this one.
He exhaled through his nose, gaze shifting to the west. These ain’t your regular roamers. They’re soldiers. Northern, I think. Bled in wars. The kind that don't walk away from fights—they end 'em.
A beat passed.
I don’t know what they want yet. But they’re settin' roots where the blood’s still fresh. Makes me wonder if they’re buildin’ something. Or waitin’ for the next to come knockin’.