Bearclaw Valley the gold-bug

the chickadee is enough to capture her attention on any ordinary day. but it is, apparently, no ordinary day, for just as Avicus creeps closer, a massive brown shape—bigger than any wolf she'd seen—emerges from the thicket, pressed low to the ground just as she is.

instantly puffing up, she takes a wobbly step back, lips curled up in a startled snarl. it's not that she is averse to strangers. it's that even in the naivete of youth, instinct still screams at her.

the creature is many times her size. his paws are as big as she is. he is a threat.

her eyes dart, looking for her mother, her brother, the one-eyed man, the others she'd met. is she truly alone with the giant? Avicus flashes him a wary look, indigo gaze glinting coldly—an icy facade over her fearful heart hammering in her chest.