Bearclaw Valley on the nights you feel outnumbered

When he finally lurched to a stop, he was breathing heavily. Plumes of breath would've wreathed from his nose if the season had been any colder; and he paced, feeling a nagging pinch in his once-broken limb. Once it abated he could focus on the ghost more intently: appraising her, drinking in her presence and the scents she carried. She was vaguely marked as a wolf of Ursus and that stayed his hand - but that did not ease the sense at the back of his mind that somehow, he knew her. That she was familiar. He could not remember his travels to the western valley all that acutely now, nor all of his combative exploits - which was a boon, for if Revui remembered the feud Moonspear held against Blackfeather, he would have skinned her alive.