Bearclaw Valley And all the good you've done / Will soon get swept away.

astara didn't recognize the howl, but she sure as shit recognized the scent that wafted over bearclaw's perimeters. she froze mid-stride, her eyes drawing dangerously to the entrance.

in a hyaenid-skulk, astara arrived in no time with her vehement melonii gaze transfixed on ganondorf.

you.

a gibbering excitement crawled through her blood as she beheld the fiery form of her longest enemey. she had never forgotten the bastard that had stolen her stone; how many days had she trailed after him in a fury -- how many weeks had she and merrick paced up and down the strand, at last forced to give up?

her gums pulled back in a snarl and her tail arced -- but astara did not lunge for ganondorf. no -- she lunged for the rabbitskin, purely on instinctual tit-for-tat -- totally unaware that inside the furs, the stone's many tongues whispered in malevolent frenzy.