Bearclaw Valley a reckonin' is comin'

Eyesswept over the lifeless coyotes, a grim satisfaction settling over him. He stepped forward, his paw crunching the bloodied snow, and spat onto one of the corpses, the disdain clear in his expression.

Damn scavengers, he muttered, his voice low and rough, echoing Tvar’s sentiment.

He straightened, rolling his shoulders as his gaze turned toward the border. They'll never learn. he added, his tone cold, before giving Tvar a brief nod. Without another word, he turned, stepping away from the grim scene, leaving the bloody snow and broken bodies behind.