Sawtooth Spire I am the Batman

Tonravik continued onward with her mate. Calloused paws were used to the roughness of mountains, and were so unfeeling that even when she stepped upon the most lush of grass, she would be none-the-wiser. Her eyes held a sharp looking stone. Only that could likely break the roughness of her paw-pads. It seemed there was no comfortable place to stand. They had gotten in the mountain through careful and diligent scouting and movement. It was a dangerous place to come and go from on the premise alone. The rocks were less inviting than the fangs trespassers would meet, she believed... the mountain as protective of itself as its stalwart guardians.

As her mate marked, she would do so too further ahead. There was no second-guessing who claimed this place. No second guessing that their possession of the place was violent, and so, to transgress against them and enter this place, one would be met with that same possessive violence. Tonravik gazed beyond the rocks end. There and a little beyond was within their reach, and so, theirs. It seemed she and her mate shared a thought, and as though she could feel this, she turned to him, her eyes darkening in enjoyment of the simple idea of adding bodies here, the perfect example to trespassers of the fate they would meet here. Her tail waved.