Bearclaw Valley a

stirred into wakefulness by a strange reverbration, astara cast her gaze about the den and did a headcount. one -- but no two; she shifted from barely cognizant to bolting awake in a milisecond, her ears pulling back as an arf (her son? perhaps?) clapped through the den wall.

astara did not expect a bear when she clambered from the den; her astute gaze traveled from beast to son, finding it alarming she had heard him at all -- was he hurt, was this bear bothering him? her hackles lifted protectively as she scuttled from denmouth to babe, her gaze never once leaving the bear.

merrick owed his life and his fealty to a spirit bear that whispered strange things to him -- astara had no such loyalty.