Bearclaw Valley i'm never finished answering to the dead

There is a silence shattering whoop, wolfish in nature and Wardruna’s hackles stand on end as a thunderous pound of hooves upon hard earth roar closer and closer. Single, functioning jack-o-lantern eye works furiously as the mighty tremble of the hooves vibrate the earth he stands upon and he realizes he is directly in the path of the stampede. A stampede that is of intentional design. His heart pounds in his throat like the furious beat of a war drum and the northerner dives, tearing through the tree to avoid the oncoming stampede. A hoof misses his back leg by a hair: a breadth of a moment. His body trembles with unspent adrenaline as he skids and turns to face the herd as it rushes by and leaves little but dust in it’s wake: except for the figure chasing after it. Fury: at almost being stampeded to death, at losing his chance to track them and learn their ( natural ) migration habits ( as dull as it undoubtedly was ) has the northerner’s blood boiling and seeing red. In the never-ending darkness of his blind eye, in his good eye, too. He tastes the metallic tang of his palpable rage.

“þú!” He spits in his mother tongue and charges for her with the hope of crashing into her and rolling her to the dirt. If he is not successful in that — because he still has not fully learned how to cope with partial depth perception and the like yet — he at least is determined to have her attention: because Wardruna has a serious bone to pick with her and she will answer for her actions to him. She has cost him: for the herd was on alert now and it would be hours before he could get anywhere near them, if they are not long gone from the valley before that ( though there is little sense for him to linger around here now that his reason is taking off like the fires of the underworld are on their heels ). “What kind of stupid —” there is an unintelligible northerner word mixed in, tearing itself raw from his throat, “— what did you do that for?!” Wardruna demands from her his sentences chopped and half formed — partially because of the language barrier and partially because he tries to rapidly arrange and translate them based on priority level — his lip curling back to expose his teeth as his anger continues to pulse through him like a separate heartbeat.