Bearclaw Valley exodus in America

@Cole

it's been a short journey from where dolce had been found and recruited by @Cole, the man who walked beside him. he lumbered with a determination in his dark eyes as they entered bearclaw turf. several scents flooded his nostrils, black lips parted to welcome them. among them, he could've sworn he caught that of the woman who'd enchanted him a while ago. 

there was a strange throb to his heart then, one he'd never felt, one he couldn't name. was she here, within these parklands? would she truly be waiting for him if she was? 

ever the realist, he doesn't let his hope rise much further. perhaps it's just another woman, or maybe his mind taunting him with what he couldn't have, but had desperately come to want. 

he turns his focus away from his thoughts. to Cole, perhaps a future brother in arms. one he could rely on, depend on. trust.

Cole led Dolce through the territory with the practiced ease of someone who knew the land like the back of his paw. His ears twitched, keeping track of every sound, but his posture was relaxed, a sign that Dolce had nothing to fear—yet. The scents of Bearclaw were thick here, woven into the trees and soil, a tapestry of wolves bound by duty and survival.

Pausing at a clearing near the heart of the territory, Cole lifted his head and called out, his deep voice resonating through the trees. He summoned @Ameline or @Ancelin, knowing they would handle Dolce’s arrival with the care it required. A new recruit meant new dynamics, and it was important to lay the groundwork right.

His sharp gaze flicked to Dolce, taking in the way the other wolf carried himself. There was a strength there, one that could be honed and forged into something Bearclaw could rely on. Cole offered a faint nod, his way of silently acknowledging the beginning of something promising. Then, he waited, the echoes of his call still fading into the distance.

big guy and — big guy.
gollum-like, he chewed a strip of raw fish as he moved to answer cole's summons. dude was a powerhouse for recruitment, and ancelin wondered if any tiny cole lookalikes would be gracing their valley come spring. he would enjoy fellow daddery when it came.
for now, he traipsed through the snow until he set eyes on the huge boulderman and his bearclaw counterpart. "welcome to the valley," he grinned with feral eyes, his pelt set in the same bone-decorated disarray as usual. "i'm ancelin. what can you do, friend?"
he assumed this was for joining, and if not, well — crow could use some seasoning.

dark eyes set forward, the outlaw grunted and dipped his head. a gruff greeting, as polite as he would get. once again he'd been regarded as a friend—it made him wonder if they were always friendly to strays. he's afraid he wouldn't offer the same sentiment, if he'd ever joined Cole's side as a guard. 

"name's dolce," he introduced himself with a gruff voice. "i got muscle, teeth. reckon i could hunt, but fightin's all im good for." blunt and to the point, as always. settling on his haunches, he studied the man. "you lookin' for more muscle?"

Cole eyed Dolce with a faint grin, then nodded toward Ancelin. Muscle always has a place here. Bearclaw thrives on strength, and if fighting’s your skill, you’ll fit.

His gaze swept over Dolce, sharp but not unkind. We don’t take slackers, but if you’re serious, there’s plenty for a guard to do.

He glanced at Ancelin with a smirk. What do you think? Got room for him?

"always got room for more muscle," ancelin agreed. "bears like to den here over the winter. we've never had a problem but it doesn't hurt to be ready for the possibility."
dolce! the name seemed impossible for the giant man in front of him, but the rex wasn't here to judge. "i will say, with the season around the corner, the right for a family is granted as long as you've proven you're gonna stay and work. we notice."
but that was the end, and he grinned between the pair. "welcome aboard. make sure you meet queen @Ameline before too long. she's — unmistakable."

Cole nodded his head, his usual stoic expression softening just slightly at Ancelin’s words. Reckon more muscle don’t hurt, he agreed, his voice steady, carrying the weight of practicality.

He let a faint grin tug at the corner of his mouth, a rare display of humor breaking through.

With that, Cole straightened, giving them both a nod. Good to have you. Let’s make sure this place keeps livin’ up to its name.