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

finally, the long-limbed, scruffy devil began to run, and merrick gave full-throated chase. whatever this male might be, he was fleet, perhaps as fast as the coywolf himself. but the bear-worshipper did not have the impetus of fear. he was content to snap around the other's heels, chivvy him with bleak laughter.
stampeded into the teeth of the valley dwellers, a tall horse galloping madly across a plain only to have its ankle broken in a fall.
merrick snapped for the end of the other's tail, biting deep, hoping to provoke a shriek or grunt or cry of agony.