Fox's Glade thank goodness

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he shifted his weight, slow, snow cracking under one broad paw. not restless… just ready, the way a wolf gets when he’s got nowhere to be and nothing pulling him elsewhere.

mm, he grunted, eyes narrowing a touch as he took her in. figured.

no pity. no surprise. just understanding between two strays in a deadquiet winter.

he flicked his tail once toward the open valley, then toward the distant treeline—

if you’re goin’ anywhere, smoke said, voice gravel-low, i’ll take ya.

a pause. ain’t got nothin’ else t’do.

and that was that, for him, simple, shapeless loyalty from a man who didn’t talk more than he needed to, and didn’t leave a wolf wandering alone unless they wanted to be.

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