Bearclaw Valley your gaze will haunt me

In his investigations, Merrit remained alert, with both ears turned to catch any sound of wolves nearby. He could not help but fear that Ursus might truly still be here, that they might have seen his approach from afar and had prepared an ambush for him. Surely they had noticed Easthollow's absence. Surely they must have revelled in that, and surely would take any chance to wipe out anyone who had survived Stone Circle's fall.

So he was already on edge when a scrabbling noise pitched over the quiet that surrounded him, and Merrit tightened, battle-ready, as Hydra had taught him on the mountains.

He pinpointed the noise and flicked his gaze back and forth until he caught a glimpse of ill-hidden fur, not a few stone throws from where he searched. Tucked within the mess of undergrowth. Clearly seeking concealment. Merrit shifted to seek a position downwind and eyed about him. Perhaps this was a trap. Perhaps he was already trapped, and very well.

Merrit charged and would seek to pin this bear wolf to the ground, for he would not fall without a fight.