Bearclaw Valley I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

The morning was quiet, the kind of stillness that only existed before the sun fully broke over the valley. A thin veil of mist clung to the ground, swirling gently with each shift of the breeze. The world was bathed in hues of pale gold and soft blue, the promise of a new day carried on the crisp air.

Cole stood alone in a clearing, his breath misting in steady, rhythmic puffs as he worked. The massive wolf moved with deliberate focus, muscles coiling and stretching as he pressed his body against the weight of a fallen tree. It had taken him the better part of an hour to roll it into position, but now, each shove and heave drove it further along the frost-laden earth.

His paws dug into the ground, claws scraping against stone and soil. Sweat glistened on his pale fur, the effort painting streaks of dampness along his shoulders and flanks. The exertion burned, but it was a welcome fire—one that cleared his mind and honed his determination.

The valley remained silent save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a bird, but Cole didn’t pause to take in the serenity. This was his moment, his time to push himself further, to become stronger—not just for himself, but for the valley, for Bearclaw. For those who looked to him with trust in their eyes.

dawn was calm. her favourite time of day, in truth, as it was once the only moment she had to go for a walk and be alone without immediately having to prepare for the day at hand. though she typically would hunt first thing in the morning, nanuralaaq was learning to let go of such habits, instead hunting when she was hungry, or when the caches needed refilling. instead, now, she wandered through the valley, ensuring she was familiar with the land and keeping track of any notable spots that she had found.

though a tension gathered like a stone pit in her chest at the scent of one of her packmates ; cole. whereas her meetings with the regina had been less than unfriendly after the incident of calfuray's trespass, nanuralaaq had yet to speak to cole again, and the former rogue had left him with some mighty wounds. a wave of remorse washed over the pale figure, and so she stood for a moment - for a few - and watched him work, his breath curling through the air in light plumes. seconds passed where she merely stood, staring, before she took a breath of her own and drew closer towards him.

cole, came a melodic, lilting tone, though it was not without a careful reluctance, as if a single word may bring him to lashing out. stupid cub, she remembered, and yet, for some reason, she continued: how are you feeling? as if it were anything other than painful. weariness upon her face, now ; she made no attempt at hiding it.

When the massive log finally shifted, rolling to the side with a satisfying crunch against the frosted earth, he groaned. Straightening, he turned at the sound of approaching steps, catching sight of Rala. His amber gaze met hers briefly before he looked back to his work, climbing atop the stump with a heave.

He chuffed. Cub. his voice deep and steady as he began peeling back the bark with practiced motions. The coarse texture came away in satisfying strips, and he tossed them aside without pause.

I’m fine, he said shortly, his tone dismissive but not harsh. He paused, turning slightly to glance at her, brow raised. What do you want?

There was no venom in his words, but the tension in his frame suggested he hadn’t forgotten their previous encounter. She looked worried, and he couldn't pinpoint why. Was'er someone else at the borders? His head cocked. Lettin' in fuckin' strays. He was ever the more vigilant now, given that the Regina was bearing cubs, and so had Towhee Jr. And what of Rala, then, with Dolce's scent wrapped around her like a thorned vice?

a breath drawn ; a breath released. watching as he worked the log from its rough exterior to its smooth underbelly. she wondered what, exactly, he was doing, as she had never seen anything like it. for now, though, it would go unspoken, instead saying: i wanted to check on your wounds, drawing forwards and moving past both the man and the log so that she may sit on the other side of it, facing towards him.

and, she sighed, monetarily glancing away from the man. i want to apologise, eh, personally, for calfuray's attack. i am not saying it is not something you would not be able to handle, as you did, clearly. i am just saying, it is mostly my fault for telling her of my affiliation, and it was my scent that lead her here, which makes it my responsibility to apologise, now, she looked back towards him, searching his face for any possible expression, listening for any possible words. so, i am sorry.

she did not expect to be forgiven easily.

such a thing was earned - she knew that much from her youth.

And as the gunner worked, he pried off piece after piece. Sharp ended talons that could be used around corners of their territory. Traps. Cole had gotten too fuckin' sick and tired o'dealin' with coyotes. He decided to take matters into his own hands, given now that Tvar had his all too full with the amazonian.

An ear flicked. Check on your wounds. He's fine. Was she deaf? But the words that came after, the long dilatation of apology had him apprehend from the grueling work he was dealing with. Slivers and rugged callouses could wait.

An apology? He didn't expect to hear one from her. But he did expect one. With a pursed lip, he bit back the rumble of gratitude in his throat. Noted.

But was it enough? It was to tolerate her. But he, too, had brought her into this valley. He was at the root that brought the tagged dog to their doors. Focused back to the piles of sharp wooded threads, he sighed. Y'understand why I did it?

The faint snap of the black wolf's paw echoed in his mind. What did Rala think of that— pristine coat, neatly groomed— to be at the centre of a spectacle?

she's just stalking....cameo

if cole was moving around, anatolia was too.

she had thought about joining him in whatever this was but lingered back. always his faithful shadow. it was for the best that she had done so, too.

a pale woman approached.

now they exchanged words and anatolia only heard the movement of voices, not the details within them. she stayed still and low, pressed against the shadows of stone and tree alike.

noted, he said, and though it was not forgiveness, it was not rejection, either. it was a step in the right direction - of perhaps falling within his good graces, if ever she had been within them in the first place - and for that, nanuralaaq was glad enough.

cole's next question had not caught her by surprise. i know why i chose it, she said, her tone light, brows sewn together as the sound of the sharp crack played through her memory, too. cole had done it as an extension of the regina's command, but nanuralaaq was given three options to choose from ; why the fractured paw? i had only mended her wounds days prior, i could not bare to see her eye taken from her.

her hind claw - that is too simple. she knows what it is to survive without something. a fractured paw seemed the reasonable choice to me. i did not want her to die, but i could not have her coming back, not when she had already caused ... trouble, an inhale, then, as her gaze seemed to refocus, though her brows only drew closer together, forming a line between them. and then, a question was asked.

how did you come up with your options, cole? why did you do it?

His jaw clenched for a moment, the memory of punishment settling like a weight in his chest. He wasn’t a man who enjoyed violence, but he was a man who knew necessity.

I ain't a good man, he voiced, his voice low and steady. But what I can do is protect. His amber eyes shifted to meet hers, steady and unflinching. The regina’s carryin'. Towhee Jr.'s knocked up. I've got—. A breath. @Nephele's got her girls. We can’t afford attention like that.

He stepped down from the stump, his movements deliberate, almost heavy. Options ain’t about cruelty. They’re about sendin’ a message. A fractured paw? She’ll remember that every step she takes. The sound of it? Anyone else nearby would’ve remembered it too.

He sighed, his gaze flickering to the horizon before returning to her. It’s a hard thing, cub. But someone’s gotta do it. There was no boast in his tone, just a grim acceptance. I did it because I had to. And for what it's worth: I'd do it again.

both ameline and towhee jr. were pregnant, and to that nanurlaaq's eyes widened ever so slightly. she knew who the father of ameline's would be, for anyone would be a fool to suspect otherwise, but for a moment, she was stumped when it came to the latter. though, a reminder of the scent that was wrapped so tightly around her on the day of their first meeting sprung into her mind: tvar was going to be a father, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of that information. it could go unprocessed, for now.

i know, she said betwixt his sentences. she will remember, the cub knew, for she had experienced a similar injury of her own, in a time now lost to the snows of the north. i would, too, her tone was quiet, now. i would make that choice over and over if it meant keeping both her and the bearclaw wolves safe and away from eachother, for there are many hard choices that one may come to face with in their lifetime. nanuralaaq knew what it was to go through hardship, though she would not say such a thing, for the actions, the proof, supplied much more than her words ever could.

another breath entered her lungs, sharp and cold, biting at her interior in a way that was almost satisfying, in a way that vaguely reminded her of home. you said 'i've', she pointed out, curious. who is it that you are focusing your protection on?

there was nothing accusatory within her tone ; rala was merely the inquisitive sort.

It was better this way, Cole had convinced himself. Better this way that he could convince her that hurtin' others is the answer— it so often ended up like this, and he was tired, exhausted, of doin' the heavy liftin' himself. Was it a moral burden? Shit, he didn't know. He did what the Rex and Regina wanted.

Good. He said, simply, given that she didn't argue with him further. It was a trait that could be held in staunch admiration, the ability to grow, be proven wrong. One that Cole wasn't sure he had.

But then she just had to keep on runnin' her sweet lips. Eyes darkening with their same sheen of bravado, he looked away, for how ever briefly. Dunno what y'mean.

Dismissive. The best way to keep Anatolia safe. Protectin' everyone. 's my job.