Bearclaw Valley distant stars come in black or red.

Cameo! Ikkalrok can be skipped.

It was the chaos and commotion that brought her near. No cries of trespass had reached her ears, but she was diligent and knew these sounds were similar enough to it to warrant investigation. The scene she came upon was a merciless one, but not unfamiliar to her by any means. Though it had never been Tartok tearing themselves apart; it had been them invading, ripping children from their mothers, ending bloodlines once and for all in a bid to acquire new hunting grounds and expand their reign.

The bear of a wolf watched the dog come upon the scene, and moved in closer with a snarl as he made for a cub. Her trust of him was nonexistent, and she detested his proximity to the whelping den... but the bloodied Merrick had it handled. Ikkalrok, large as she was, dipped her head in deference to his whim then... which appeared to be to kill the thing.

A low whuff was sounded to alert him that she was willing to help him in any way should he call upon her, but she would not interfere until then. Still, she supported this decision, and, unlike Phoebe, the savage heathen of a wolf stared. In the meantime, the brutish woman kept to the outskirts of the altercation.