Bearclaw Valley i feel sorry for those who don't know the trick

if ever there were kindred spirits that roamed this earth, astara liked to believe she had found hers in merrick.

that was about as romantic a notion as the blackbird would ever have -- the rest of her heart was occupied by horrific and unsettling things.

she set in a lope after her rook, towards the fox glade where their claim opened up into bare meadow. the grass here was fragile and cut down by the cold -- astara walked for a time along the goldenwheat foxtails, inhaling deep for any scent of their future quarry.