Bearclaw Valley When they say 2% milk, I don't know what the other 98% is

a cry rising over the valley and its new melt. merrick yawned, grunting with a low and full pleasure as he nudged astara affectionately and rose to answer it. dark limbs carried him in a comfortable trot to the borders, where he grinned madly, head low-slung and steps slowing to an odd stalk.
"what can i do for you?" the young coywolf inquired, single eye burning with a pride that warned the newcomer should be cautious. this was bedlam, after all; his visitor might well find himself locked up.