Bearclaw Valley some kind of metal made up from glue

merrick rose in turn, a flash of irritation gilding his singular eye.

good.

astara eyed him haughtily, poised and ready. her tail rose behind her in similar fashion, arcing like a black wing.

a wrinkle in her gums as they lifted, a row of menacing teeth revealed.

he lunged.

astara sprung back as his teeth raked her raven pelt, parrying with a flurry of snaps towards his neck, his cheek, his face. her limbs propped stiffly, her back arched -- all the while, careful to keep him in front of her always.