Bearclaw Valley some kind of metal made up from glue

merrick rocked back onto stunned haunches as astara sounded her warning. she had never acted so before, and it confused the boy. his nightshade had always been welcoming to him, ravenous for their frequent and aggressive couplings.
but not now.
he would try a different approach then. his cyclops stare reflected a bewilderment at her chastising throat; merrick threw back his ragged ears and approached her with a low whine, compelled to follow despite his desperate desire not to be the subject of her teeth.