Bearclaw Valley By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,

merrick laughed harder. he could not help himself, for the scent of fear was a reek that sharpened his lusts into a spearpoint.
"it's me, god," he mocked, before dissolving into another fit of malevolence that ended with a pleased sigh.
and then merrick showed himself; there, on a leftside ridge not far above the man, the single eye blazing down toward the other. laughing laughing laughing teeth glinting in the light.
a place of screaming
echo them from the rock walls
merrick leapt from the stone with a gleeful screech and lunged for the creature.