Bearclaw Valley your gaze will haunt me

Sorry for the delayed response! There is no in-built bump feature on this site, though the Threadlog is coded to show when it is each player's turn to reply in a thread! Response times vary from writer to writer, my month has been quite busy which accounts for the wait. Again, sorry about that!

Fur pressed beneath him, and with the skill of a warrior, he seemed to manage to manoeuvre his paws to turn his enemy to face him. She had tried to run but he had stopped her. As he looked on her now, his conscience stirred with the question of whether he had made a mistake.

She reminded him of Clay, in a way. Not at all in shape or size, but he remembered how his brother had shrunk beneath him when he had intercepted him at Moonspear. When he had mistaken him for an intruder and had gone after him as such when all Clay had been was a boy he should have helped.

A boy who had died. He felt now as though he stood on some precipice, a ledge between clarity and paranoia. If they had been anywhere but Bearclaw Valley he might have been more easily swayed to trust her submissive display. But as it was, he felt Ursus all around him, in the shadows that creaked beneath the tousled trees, in the silence that continued to meet him past the pleas of the girl on the ground.

"And how has Ursus not eaten you first?" he retorted. Ears half-turned, eyes glancing out, debating what to do.