Bearclaw Valley woe.

"yeah," he grunted, wanting to add that they had no other choice. but that felt too bitter given the circumstances, which were quickly sweetening in both of their favour.
she slowly heated him to boiling; he lolled like a happy frog against her, nipping toward the back of her hackles, breathing down toward the roots of her hairs.
"one day we'll outnumber them," he muttered there, utterly content save for a sudden ember of burning ambition: to build for her the empire that he had been denied the honor of ever knowing, a deep and welling instinct that was once bearman for blackbird.