Bearclaw Valley a reckonin' is comin'

tvar’s gaze lingered on the lifeless forms scattered across the bloodied snow, a fleeting grimace crossing his features before it faded into something more stoic. he shook his pelt free of crimson streaks, though the metallic tang of blood clung to him still.

a faint huff escaped his nostrils as he stepped back.

"gonna catch up with towhee, see ya around old man." he said to the brute, and with that, he turned, padding off through the snow.