Bearclaw Valley [M] they breathe you in, and dive as deep as they can

Ikkalrok was nothing but brute force; as her fangs scythed the cheek of Astara's yielding flesh, she was galvanized and forged forward. There was little to her that was protecting her cubs, now, as others became present—were that the case she surely would have retreated to hunker over them as more came upon the scene. It was not pride, either—it was more the thrill of the fight in which she had not partaken in in so long now. She did not see the mad glint in the others eye, but as Astara came to her with her fanged rebuttal, and had she a voice to say so with, Ikkalrok would say she heard the madwoman's voice as clear as day.

Too late now. Ikkalrok saw that she was had as her jaw was gripped by the wretch. And saw, too, that nothing would stop her. Her brown eyes hardened with resolve as Ikkalrok looked to Astara, a low, mocking snarl ekking forth from her as she awaited her execution. No doubt this was to come, but Ikkalrok pressed forward with all of her might so that her cubs would, at the very least, not drown as Astara might like—she had the strength for that much, at least.