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

merrick's voice continued to ring in loud, mad guffawing; he was
tickled absolutely 
at the flailing of the creature beneath him. between his gasping sounds of mirth, the young wolf struck down, viciously, snapping at all he might grasp.
fangs glanced, snatched his cheek open in a neat filet. merrick gasped, more surprised than hurt, and pulled away from the odd thing at once, this scraggly beast who dared insult a god.
"move your legs, you cunt," he lashed in a low and hateful chuckling, flicking tongue along the blood now dripping from his mouth.
his blood.