Bearclaw Valley from the spiritual poisons we expel at night

even astara had noted the gradual filling of her belly. the changes to her appetite. the hours of sleep snatched fitfully, replaced with jaunts to a distant latrine at inconvenient hours.

always the one to avoid social interaction, astara preferred to hang near the boulder that jutted like a grim tooth at the claw's entrance. here she could inspect any wolf passing by, the image of santiago still freshly burned in her mind.

guarding both the entrance and a worn-down bone, astara chewed abstractly at the worried surface, ignoring the growing gloom that settled in her gut.

What Toad was doing could hardly be called a patrol- something more like a casual stroll along the borders, purposeless and aimless. Aimless until he caught sight of the blackbird- and his path was altered slightly to meet her.

He did not know her name, but he had seen her at the meeting in the days prior- and so knew she was a friend of Merrick. Toad knew not how close a friend- these things had not been made any clearer by the distance that had loomed between them. He approached with a little chuff to make his presence known as he trotted forward, quietly paying a curious glance to her bone.

chunks of flecked bone riddled her gums by the time toad hailed her. astara apprised him, indigo gaze flinty.

had he come to take her bone? what interest did he have with it?

why was he looking at it so?

her grip tightened. her paws placed protectively on the gnarled appendage. her bone, not his. just like merrick was hers, not his. 

astara's raven ears thrust forward, a silent snarl crimping the corners of her mouth.

He watched on as her grip tightened on the thing. Glanced back up to her cold eyes, down to the contorted corners of her mouth which communicated her irritation. Toad took a step backward with slight concern, gazing at her face now rather than her bone. 

Hey, hey, chill. I don't want your shit, He explained calmly, settling back comfortably onto his haunches, as if to show he had no intentions of coming any closer.

his gaze moved from bone to face. astara's rough shoulders eased. a tense treaty, then, for the space put between them.

she measured his presence with cutting eyes; who was he, which of the wolves had brought him in? he was not tall and striking like ulysses, nor slim and fragile like eco - something between, with dark eyeliner around soft eyes astara found compelling.

she shifted the bone, inhaling deep. he didn't seem interested in her bone, and that kept her at ease. ignoring toad, astara continued to worry the tissue between her teeth for some time before tiring.

<3 i'm going to close this up, but dm me if you want it back open - i just want to cut down on older threads in my threadlog.