Wapun Meadow be gentle as you tear me apart

blackfell huffs, his breath curling like smoke in the cold air. his crimson eyes flick over the girl, sizing her up one last time before he decides she isn’t worth the effort. the game, the intimidation—it all felt hollow now, and he was bored of playing the big bad wolf. his shoulders sag slightly, the tension easing as his tail settles low against the snow. the shift is subtle but undeniable, the predator retreating into something quieter, less pointed.

never heard of bearclaw, he says flatly, his tone lacking the sharpness it had carried before. his gaze shifts past her, scanning the treeline as if already dismissing her presence. on my own right now. but i’ll be going soon.

he looks back at her, the faintest edge of curiosity creeping into his otherwise indifferent expression. i take it you’re one of these bearclaws? the question is casual, almost lazy.