Bearclaw Valley my isle of golden dreams

In her eyes, he could see the disquiet that caused her to glance back. Instinct told him that she would continue to worry about her sister the longer they were gone. Tadec had only been in the valley pack for a short time, but he had yet to cross paths with any who harbored ill intent. The worst of the brood was their leader – the white fang – who seemed only to have issue with the fact that the moonlighter was part coyote. It was bothersome to imagine that this would cause anyone distress, for he believed it to be a fine trait to possess. If it had been of his choice, Tadec would have been whole in his sharing of the coyote blood. They had always been his true kin, anyway.
 
The small smile that grazed her features was not enough. The spindly fellow spun in a circle, quick as a whistle, and then faced her with a wagging tail. The eagerness about him was overflowing, enveloping every aspect of his dark figure. “Don’t worry, Indra. Sister will rest – will be fine when we return,” he promised her with a small curling of his lips and a sure bob of his narrow skull. He knew that the pups would be safe by their mother’s side while Indra was away, and she would be back before she even noticed having left.
 
Once in the meadow just outside of the valley, Tadec glanced to where the glade was for a fleeting moment before turning west and peering at the dark wood that sat beyond the claim of the pasture. The tip of his tail was alive with an electric enthusiasm. The sun was starting to set beyond the mountains once they had made the halfway mark in the meadow. It would not have been long before its light faded, and the sky was illuminated with the twinkle of faraway stars.