Bearclaw Valley I slithered here from Eden

It was not with even an ounce of patience that the male awaited a response, despite his efforts—which weren’t much to begin with—to do so. As far as he was concerned, the valley belonged to him already, and had ever since he’d been born within its walls; to someday rule over the land was his right by birth, and the day for him to take over had long since arrived. For this reason, the response he received was irritating, to say the least. His jaw clenched shut, teeth grinding ever so slightly as he fought to hold his tongue, needing to remind himself several times over that the memory of the valley was not something remembered by all. In fact, so few of those still living could honestly say that they recalled its greatness, its glory, and the family that had been both created and broken during its lifetime. This reminder, after being played on repeat through his head, was the only thing that kept him from throwing back an utterly rude response.

 

Keeping silent—which proved to be far more difficult than usual—he allowed for the other to proceed, listening intently to each word. Only after being asked a question had he allowed himself to speak, knowing it was wise to give an answer, both for his cause and pride. “I’m rebuilding something here,” was his response, simple and monotonous. “I was born here; this valley is, and always has been, mine.” Even when he’d been away from it, shrouded in the shadows of Blackfeather Woods, and then tried by the ignorance of Drageda, Bearclaw Valley had always belonged to him. It was where he’d been born, where he’d spent a good portion of his earlier days, and where he’d always been meant to end up at; it was home, despite how troublesome his life there had once been.

 

There was silence for a long minute after he’d answered before he’d thought to ask, “Why?” Perhaps, had he the ability to see the world through a perspective of positivity, he would have considered the possibility of someone having interest in his homeland. But, Xan being Xan, he couldn’t assume anything that was even remotely good majority of the time.