Bearclaw Valley from the spiritual poisons we expel at night

chunks of flecked bone riddled her gums by the time toad hailed her. astara apprised him, indigo gaze flinty.

had he come to take her bone? what interest did he have with it?

why was he looking at it so?

her grip tightened. her paws placed protectively on the gnarled appendage. her bone, not his. just like merrick was hers, not his. 

astara's raven ears thrust forward, a silent snarl crimping the corners of her mouth.