Bearclaw Valley i fancied myself a witch

merrick was headed for the nearest border, because merrick's one motto thus far was "i do what i want." indra and tadec had instilled a pride in the boy not easily shaken. and while he was sure to be swept up by someone or other, the boy nevertheless marched resolutely toward what he had decided was today's destiny. 
he paused to glance into the sky; the child's ears fell back and he hesitated. the scent of bearclaw hung heavy here, marks enforced and reinforced. a border. did he dare cross?
it was only a handful of moments before merrick decided yes, indeed he wished to do so, and darted nervously for the scentline.