Bearclaw Valley bear with me

What had started as brawl was swiftly becoming a hellish, twisted nightmare of blood and shadow, and Ico's heart began to thump with something more than fear that Ursus wolves would be hurt. What Ico was seeing wasn't just hurt, it was torment — and it couldn't be stopped! They wouldn't stop!

Insanely, Ico was already penning the tale of this battle in his head. Ears filled with a cacophony of hate; growls that rippled the river, the tearing of flesh like leaves being shredded, the pulling of fur from its roots, screams echoing as if from the very foundations of the earth.

Suddenly — another! From his perch on the hill, Ico blinked surprisedly at an additional (fifth? sixth? hundredth?) wolf on the scene... but in physicality this one was far more akin to Ico than the brawling warriors. Despite that, he showed astonishing bravery as he threw himself onto the battlefield, shouting final words of warning to the trespasser. Ico's gaze dashed from the new wolf to Santiago, hoping beyond hope he would do as he was bid.