Wapun Meadow anywhere else is hollow

tvar’s ears flick forward at her greeting, his sharp stare lingering on her briefly before narrowing. the mention of her companion piqued his interest, but he shoved that curiosity aside. instead, he straightened, his posture firm but not openly hostile.

this is bearclaw valley’s hunting territory, he says with a gruff, stern tone of voice. then, adds on: we don’t take too kindly to strangers sniffing around.

he appraises her with narrowed hazel eyes.