Bearclaw Valley why does tragedy exist?

oh! the poor boy, and merrick, his laughter came openly, and was warm when it arrived. "don't worry. i was born here," he told the wary child. "this used to be a pack called bearclaw valley. ask anyone in easthollow, i wouldn't lie." there was little reason to torment the wayfarer.
for merrick was deeply intrigued and fulfilled by coming to rest not only in his birthplace, but alongside the hollow he had found tied in 
her
pelt
a humming beneath his breath. "did you ever know a woman called indra?"