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

here were barren scents of legion. merrick was willing to be distracted from his crusade by an easier kill rather than the simple search for weaknesses their journey might terminate. but they were two against the wolves arbiter had gathered for herself.
on a whim, the bearwitch nipped primly at her shoulder and then dashed off in an arch that carried him toward a stand of silverpine and tall birch. from there he might urge them both closer to their hunting grounds;
or perhaps he would allow his head to be turned by the jetblack pull of his lover's lithe flanks, the all-seeing glint of her indigo stare.