Wapun Meadow There's ice in my water,

wait;
but merrick could not be drawn upon to act in such a way;
her shout only deepened his bloodfever;
the bearwolf lunged for her, jaws parted, to wound, to taste. he did not know what might happen when he tasted her blood, only that a death had been denied him over and over again.
she would suffice.
his snarl dissolved to high, boyish, maddened laughter.