Bearclaw Valley people passing through me, yes they do

while nunataq seemed disinterested, astara was fascinated -- this scent was like no other in blackfeather or beyond, and intrigued, the girl stole one last glance at nunataq and then delved within.

a few feet inside the tunnel, astara felt a shift in temperature -- it seemed to grow in warmth, and a rancid smell emanated in the air. the light was feeble at best the further she went in, and gradually all light was extinguished save for the distant, feeble glow of the den's mouth.

she slugged on, crouching as the tepid air grew -- and a noise she had not heard before rose from the earth. it seemed as if breathing -- but the breaths were long and exaggerated, each inhale longer than two breaths of her own, each exhale a shuddering, snorting affair. she froze, for the ground gave way suddenly beneath her, and she was looking at what appeared to be a blackened, massive roadblock.

nosing the strange obstruction, astara's hair stood on end -- for the scent came from this shaggy rock, and it moved and shifted with each dragging breath. it occurred to astara rather belatedly that this monolith was alive -- but as she stared in wonder, her legs did not move.