Silvertip Mountain if this is how you folks make art it’s fucking depressing

the figure stopped, glanced about.
suddenly, vesta was at his side — merrick grinned darkly at the red-nape, jerking his head silently toward the foliage beyond the interloper.
let the strange wolf be caught between them; let him be crushed by the jaws of ursus. when she moved, he would stay, keeping pace with the course of the invading creature until loyal vesta had found her proper position.