Sawtooth Spire Lasiurus

Imagine his bewilderment to find evidence of an itinerant Tonravik. What was she doing? Did this mean they could see the pups now? Kapvik was torn between following her and traveling to the den. Instead he busied himself, nose twitching away to find signs of prey. Nothing substantial for a pack of...how many were they? Eleven? Twelve? He did not know, but the gravity of the situation persisted.
INDENTThe wolverine sucked in air and let it out in a meditative state. Blood and...was that milk? The Delta set out on his way. Short, sporadic bouts of speed kept him from full-blown gallops. The thundering sound of rapids blocked out other sounds, but he didn't care. His passage to the she-bear was perilous, but he still did not care. I-I need...His pinings were put to rest by the titanic shadow of her, reposeful and imbrued. Kapvik let out a plaintive cry, submissive and overbearingly happy. He crawled to her, moved by the sight of her. More whines left his maw, tongue seeking her bloodstained muzzle. Please, let me – let me do this. Please.