Bearclaw Valley a[m]plius lava me ab iniquitate mea

the she-wolf's words served only to clench the chow's jaws, else some awful word might escape them.

"worthy of the bear"? moments ago, with muzzle still stuck in stale guts, bernadette would have thought it king. was it not the point of her rank to study and prove it? but now, ideologically wronged, she saw the bruin-heart as mere idolater, along with the rest of her uneducated clansmen.

things were better while the witch still lived, the bitch thought bitterly. if only a blood-feud hadn't seen him killed at the fangs of one by same blood his own. as befit such savages.

the thought of merrick reminded her of another thing.

"bruin-heart." bernadette began. "there was a pact."

"my firstborn to the bruin-witch. with him dead, what befalls the child?"