Bearclaw Valley archespore

along a short length of bearclaw's inner eastern wall, stigmata paced anxiously back and forth; a scowl burned across his features like treadmarks. above him, half tucked into a broad scar on the cliffside, was the nest of a particularly large golden eagle he wished to dispatch. but at over sixty feet in the air -- and dealing with a bird of prey that rested through seventy percent or more of the day -- the wolf was out of luck. unless he could catch it in one of those rare moments it was on or low to the ground, which would take equal parts dedication and luck, this was a fellow predator he'd simply have to live with.

and as he didn't feel very much inclined to spend another sunny day stalking a gliding dot in the sky to its impenetrable perch, stigmata was quick to accept this bird's near-irrevocable residency as fact. he could only hope that the pups he'd yet to personally encounter were too big and/or too much of a hassle for the aquila to target.

@Lucas