Bearclaw Valley oso

at @Juárez’s bidding he heads north. 

he passes out though an arroyo carved through the beaming mouth of a canyon. up through scrubland, then pass a silvery plain that turns verdant at the fringes. 

eventually he’s in green territory. the scent of wolves thread with bear, and he’s now at the foot of a great valley ensconced in stones. 

he can smell chicory and grass-sage, the two herbs he needs most. 

sniffing at a stale deposit, soto enters the valley.

The breeze that carried the stranger’s scent into the narrow slot of the valley’s entrance, but it was with the speed and force of a hurricane gale that Ameline moved to intercept. The slope was not to her advantage, but whatever challenge the incline posed, her maternal instinct was much greater. 

She snarled when she spotted the man ahead- picking his way down toward the valley. As she charged toward him, her tail rose, and fangs became bared. With a booming voice, she snarled.

Get out!!

he’s scarcely a hundred feet into the red path when a whirlwind descends in the form of black gale and gilded fur; soto freezes, eyes fastening on her rapid approach. 

he weighs his options. if it is just her, maybe he can overpower her, and push on for juarez’a order. 

he stands his ground. time to see if ameline’s bark has a bite.

a waned border might have brought understanding, but theirs was staunch, still dripping with piss. 
the queen of the valley commanded. her knight was blurred and broken into a thousand shapes among the sneaking primordial shadows of bearclaw, and as scree shot from beneath her claws, he lunged for the back of the stranger's shoulders, his leap silent as death.

The man stiffens- Ameline watched, expecting the coy wolf to turn and leave, tail tucked. She would pursue, of course- it felt thrilling to run again, and with such purpose- but even more exhilarating still is the fact that he holds his ground, and invites her fury. 

Ameline gathers herself, slowing her pace to increase her accuracy, knowing that a careful side-step on the man’s behalf could cut her down if she hurtled toward him unchecked. 

Closing the space between them, she zig-zagged, each bound sending up a bouquet of dried petals and dust. Her warcry lifted and reverberated down the walls of the valley, surrounding them in much the same way that the Bearclaws now surrounded their trespasser. 

From behind the man came her husband- as valiant and terrifying as the knight she had always asked him to be. 

With a crouch and a snap of her jaws, she leapt toward the male to welcome him into battle.

one’s fun if you play it safe. two is signing a death warrant. 

the assuredness he feels must visibly drain from his face as batsheba is joined by golem; soto realizes his jeopardy almost too late. 

she does not slow. soto lowers his head as she collides with his shoulder, suddenly assailed by the spectre from behind. his jaws snap round to his assailant’s face with the goal to create an opening in which he could run. 

soto thrusts teeth and shoulder every which way with hard shoves, opening to a gallop towards the valley’s entrance.

the pain was sudden but not indescribable. ancelin had already been given his first round of facial piercings, and as the hot teeth of the stranger tore at his left cheekbone, he leaned into the agony.
a hoarse shout of effort gritted; ancelin ripped his own wounds wider to have a final word, snapping for one flailing paw as the dumbass twisted away, heading back the way he came.

Teeth sank into the thick fur of her neck, and raked down to her shoulders which were bare from scars left behind years ago. The skin tore, and blood seeped down, staining those bare epaulettes before blending in with the dark fur of her legs. 

In retaliation she snapped at the shoulder that shoved at her, and did her best to try and block his path so she and Ancelin could double the punishment- but the man was quick, and wise to flee as soon as he was able to do so.

Snapping jaws hounded him, and with a baying warcry she sought to leave a terrifying warning in his ears that might last longer than the wounds she had inflicted.

teeth at every corner. his face is aflame, his shoulder alight — crimson routs through his dark pelt.

he thinks he’s free but his leg is pulled out under from him by the piebald ghost. with horror he twists and falls to the earth, the lull in his movement enough for a second barrage from ameline’s teeth on his haunch. 

he flies to his feet as they crowd him. ameline’s body blocks him and he veers abruptly, this time knowing if he does not escape now he never will.

i made us a second thread in wapun to help with the spree! I tagged u both

ancelin was driven into a shark's frenzy by the bloom of his wife's blood on the hot wind. 
they moved in ripping tandem, his cheek a matted mass of caked blood and torn, hanging flesh, fur smeared with saliva; the stranger jerked from ameline's trail and ancelin followed.
as the queen bellowed her rage, he remained silent, teeth aimed to cut down, to trip again, to drive him sideways, down, and the rage in the bearclaw was bleak and great.

In her haste, Ameline failed to inflict much damage when the male suddenly was tripped up and fell. She scrambled around to lunge, but in an instant he was up and running again, and she took off after him. 

If such an opportunity presented itself again, she would be ready for it. 

Ahead, the open light of the meadow loomed- there, he would have the opportunity to flee in any direction, use whatever agility he had to his advantage…And while she knew that they would only have to chase him away to make a point, part of her hoped they might have a chance to pull him to the ground again.