Bearclaw Valley violent disposition

The shrill whoop of coyotes voices made Ameline sneer and roll her eyes. It was their breeding season too- and as dull-witted as they seemed to be in general, to bring their caterwauling voices so close to the pack’s borders was a plea for violence.

But those were not a lover’s cries- but the yowls of a pack hunting, blended with pain and anguish. She heard Cole’s voice and made a beeline for the borders only to find the battle ended- but the road to recovery begun.

Winslet was torn, shredded, bled. Keep huh here, call for a medic. She said, staying the man who looked keen to move the young woman to the valley, for safety. She was not sure if any in their midst could heal such wounds- but she knew one who could. 

I’m going to Twiftcurrent, for their medic. Tend to huh, now. I’ll be back ath thoon ath I can.

Time couldn’t be wasted; she set a course, immediately, for their neighbours.