Verdant Basin Dodgeball

Qvasir muttered under his breath in a low, irritated growl as he watched the bear lumber toward the carcass, the distant sound of its heavy steps cutting through the silence.

Idiota, he grumbled, his voice rough with disdain. Bears and their constant feasting.

He didn’t make a move to stop it, knowing well enough that the bear would likely devour its fill. The wolf, for now, had little interest in fighting for scraps. The smell of blood in the air was enough to hold his attention as he stood, watching the large creature claim its prize, his sharp eyes gleaming in the shadows.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, Qvasir shifted away from the clearing, letting the bear have its moment. The hunt, after all, was far from over.