Bearclaw Valley some kind of majesty, some chemical load

Astara did not know of the uncertainties in Skoll’s mind, but she sensed it. she stole a glance his way, her dark gaze rife with tranquility. 

returning her focus to the earthen she-wolf, Astara flicked an ear in response. a trickle of distaste fluttered in her heart, naught but the faintest suggestion to her features. 

Astara waited for Skoll’s riposte. Once she felt he had finished, she demurely stalked over to Kiwi, meeting the woman’s gaze in desultory interest. 

she did not slow as she breached Kiwi’s personal bubble; instead she hiked her nearest hind leg, lobbing a long, acrid splash of trickling yellow in the interloper’s direction. a musty steam rose from the snow, curling in pale tendrils around her lifted leg.