Bearclaw Valley noro lim, asfaloth

A brilliantly white hare ran straight out in front of him, leading the male away from the river and after it. When it swerved, he followed suit, refusing to allow it a chance at fleeing beyond his sight. Several times he got close, jaws snapping shut but closing around nothing as it zigged and zagged every which way; he grew frustrated, ready to lunge forth and tear into the lesser creature no longer to dine upon its flesh, but now simply to make it regret having begun this game with him. Alas, the day was yet to come on which he would end the animal’s life, a howl—feminine and light, sung by a voice he could put a face to with ease—interrupting his actions and capturing his attention.

What does she want?

With a slow shake of his head—he attempted to rid himself of any lingering frustration—he broke away from the rabbit’s trail and steered himself towards the valley’s entrance instead. And when he got there, he felt relieved to have set his fast-food aside, noticing immediately that there was a face outside his home that he didn’t recognise. With his tail raised and ears shoved forward, he approached the pair and immediately asked, “Who are you?”