Bitterroot Valley she had been forced into prudence in her youth,

at last their quarry came down into spavined jerks and lay in the gossamer of her own blood. the gargoyle panted a moment, casting a bemused and pleasant eye over the delighted imaq. and when he had caught his breath, he tilted back his head to join her song.
"good hunting," the man grunted when the tones had ended. "very good to share in this success vith you." a moment's smile, and then he fell to beginning the butchery.
he expected they would both be doused in blood and exhausted by the time it was over, and so paced himself, focusing on apportioning each slice of his jaws equally between rivenwood and duskfire.