Bearclaw Valley "I have plans for you."

There was a call deeper within the valley—not so far that Glaukos was ignorant to it, but not so close that it was of huge concern to him. As the call sounded there was a flash of movement and the soldier paused, lifting his head to peer after the shape of another wolf. Another woman. The fur between his shoulders began to lift with unease, while Glaukos stared at them in the manner of a bear waking from hibernation, swinging his attention to and fro as they ran along the path.

She was defensive; her teeth bared with a snarl, but Glaukos did not move. He saw no reason to run yet, and would not want to incite the woman further in to a predatory chase regardless. Neither did he advance beyond where he stood. Instead, Glaukos was a bloody, brooding gargoyle.

It wasn't too surprising that someone still lived here in the valley. Beyond having found their scents, he knew it to be a fertile place and a well protected one as well, at least in the past. The woman who came careening down the path looked healthy enough and on the younger side; perhaps she had been born here too, in a previous year.

Has Ursus risen again? He bellowed, his question emotionless, his features sullen. There was no fear within Glaukos—but there was the edge of danger in case this woman got too close.