All Welcome All them good times,

the sun hung crooked above the treetops, bleeding gold through the needles—just shy of noon. cole stood at the edge of a clearing, watching the wind bend through the underbrush. birds chirred somewhere out of sight. he’d already brought in a fawn earlier, small thing, barely worth the bite—but it’d been warm and fresh, and that mattered.
still, it didn’t sit right. not in his gut. not for the mouths they had now.
he wanted more.
he rolled a shoulder, stretching the stiffness from one side as his eyes scanned the horizon. light played off the dirt, off the tree trunks, but there was no sign of her yet. twitch.
cole exhaled through his nose, slow and steady. she had a habit of disappearing, that girl— silent as smoke. but she wasn’t far. never was. even if she thought she could vanish, he could always find her. always knew where to look.
he stepped forward, nose low, picking up the scent she left behind like threadbare ribbon. faint, but recent. he followed it, not with urgency, but with intent— tracking her like a ghost.
he had a mind to ask if she’d come with him, later. for something bigger. something worth the effort.

her limbs felt numb—the byproduct of her laying completely still for the better part of an hour. spotty sunlight warmed her coat in uneven patches while a sparrow overhead bobbed along the branch like it had nowhere better to be—unbothered, unlike her.

pretty thing—mottled with browns and white, spotted black across the face like a raccoon. lucky fucker. if she were better at climbing trees, maybe she'd have had something to do this morning—not to say she didn't have anything to do. she'd meant to do something about her legs—that didn't happen. got distracted by a bird, apparently.

she smelt him approaching before she saw him, but it made no diffence. she didn't move, save for the flick of her tail.

there y'are.
his voice came rough but easy, calloused paws of sound in the soft dirt behind her. cole stood just past the line of dappled shade, that battered silhouette of his blotting the sun like some outlaw monument. golden gaze lingered upon her awkward stature.
reckon i been lookin’ at every damn tree out here thinkin’ you might’ve crawled up one.
a breath. a tilt of the head.
you ain’t dead, are ya?
he gave her a look. that classic fatherly look— one brow barely raised, mouth set like he didn’t smile much but used to. then he shifted the weight in his shoulders, sniffed toward the wind.
c’mon. figured we could find somethin’ bigger today. proper hunt. stretch those legs if you still remember how.
he didn’t push her. just waited. like he always did. like he always would.

twitch didn’t lift her head. just blinked slow at the bird still twitching on the branch above her like it’d been spared some divine judgement. if only she were so fortunate. the girl moans as he calls to her, as if she had something better to do. mmm. not yet, she muttered, eyes half-lidded against the light, give it time.

the bird let out a soft call, took flight. with her entertainment dispersing and a chore being handed to her, twitch finally shifted. rolled her shoulder stiffly and stretched out her legs, slow and ungainly, until her hindpaws splayed wide and awkward behind her like a half-crumpled fawn. one ear flicked toward him as he spoke again.

she snorted. or maybe laughed. hard to say. 'figured', my ass. i think you just like torturing me, actually. her voice came dry, sleep-slow. still stiff in the joints, but lighter-hearted. she rolled onto her belly with a grunt, ears half-back like she was expecting reprimand. a pleasant surprise when she got none in response.

she licked at her chest, smoothed a tuft down. then, as if realizing she’d taken too long and was toeing the line of his patience—though he’d never say it—she gave a half-huff and stood. fine. i’ll play bait.

hell, he muttered, jaw twitching faintly with something between amusement and exasperation as she flopped around like wet laundry on a line. you play bait just fine. all that belly-flashin’, whinin’, bird-watchin’. he gave a grunt and started forward, his broad shoulders shifting beneath the sun.
but he didn’t snap at her. didn’t scold. he just kept pace slow, long enough for her to catch up, even if she grumbled the whole way.
cole’s eyes scanned the ridge ahead, the scent of game tugging at the corners of his mind like a memory. he was quiet for a stretch, until the trees opened to reveal signs of passage: trampled grass, a torn tuft of fur. they were close.
he gave a short chuff. keep that yap down, he said without heat, eyes cutting to her just once. unless y’wanna scare off supper.
but then, a breath later, that he wasn't sure he'd exert:
glad y’came. wasn’t sure you’d move.

her tongue clicked faintly off the roof of her mouth—whinin', she muttered under her breath with all the contempt of a cat kicked out of the warm laundry pile.

she kept close. not shoulder to shoulder, but close enough that the wind off his back stirred the loose hairs on her chest. a comfort, maybe. not that she’d admit it.

when the grass shifted and his voice dropped, she mirrored him—ears twitching forward, steps light. she didn’t answer his jab, just cast him a sidelong glance like who’s the noisy one now, before her attention swept ahead again.

and then that last bit. it wasn’t loud—just sat between the trees. twitch didn't quite know what to do with it; wasn't entirely sure what he meant. didn't think she'd move cause she was lazy, or something less domestic? twitch didn’t stop walking, but her ears pinned back. awfully vague, but okay.

cole exhaled through his nose, a short huff that might’ve been a laugh if you knew him well enough. he didn’t break stride, though the corners of his mouth lifted— not in amusement, but something quieter. something like relief.
just mean you’re gettin’ harder to track, he said, tone rough but low. used to be i could hear your teeth chatter a mile off.
the path ahead narrowed, forcing them closer. his shoulder brushed hers, just briefly, and then he was ahead again— head low, ears pivoting to some distant rustle. he didn’t speak for a beat.
then, softer: ’s not a bad thing.
he didn’t elaborate. didn’t need to. the silence that followed was familiar, easy— the kind that only came when two people knew where the other stood. he just kept moving, nose to the wind, eyes on the brush. the hunt would begin soon. they'd always worked best that way— no orders, just motion.

twitch blinked once, as if caught off guard not by the teasing, but by the gentleness beneath it. like he’d slipped and said something kind on accident. mm. maybe you’re just gettin’ slow, she muttered, though the twitch of her mouth betrayed her.

a corner pulled, crooked and quick. almost real. old man senses must be slippin'. might be time to trade you out.

her tail flicked when his shoulder brushed hers, and she leaned into it instinctively, because he was safe. steady. it felt normal, like nothing had changed.

she followed him , took a quick glance at the bend in the path ahead. see any tracks? part curiosity, part distraction, part wanting to be useful again. i got eyes if you need ‘em.

cole stopped, nose to the dirt. his brow furrowed like it always did when the world gave him something worth focusing on. the scent was faint, but the shape in the soil was clear—split hoof, deep-pressed. fresh.
he grunted, shifting his weight. caribou, he muttered, tapping the edge of the print with his paw. big one, movin’ east. ain’t been long—wind hasn’t touched the trail.
he glanced back at twitch, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might’ve passed for a smirk if you knew him well enough. good thing you brought those eyes. i ain’t tradin’ out just yet.
then he stood, shaking the dust from his fur. his voice dropped quieter, rough with warmth: come on, kid. let’s go get somethin’ worth draggin’ home.

twitch didn’t answer at first, just stepped up beside him, nose dipping to where his paw tapped the soil. she could see it now, dug into the mud. big bastard, she muttered, better be worth the bruises.

she didn’t smile, but something in her chest felt lighter with his word. her shoulder brushed his again as she passed. c’mon, old man. before you lose the trail. and just like that, she was moving—low and lean, following the prints through the trees.