Bearclaw Valley some kind of metal made up from glue

astara did not succumb; she answered in a royal way, sending a knife of irritation through merrick. it was his first time at this game; he had no patience for the muzzy cloud of confusion.
and so he too rose with a golden air, tail lashing bannerlike in the cold air behind his haunches. no soft, teasing courtship for them. he was inflamed, and only the sweetness of blood or the feel of her lithe body beneath his would quell the mad boy.
both cups to be drunk from.
merrick approached on stuff limbs, then made a lunge for her, teeth snapping toward astara's shoulder.