Bearclaw Valley iron defenses

all welcome!

frost clings to the jagged edges of the stones underfoot, and the crisp scent of pine mingles with the faint musk of lingering intruders.

fucking coyotes.

the damned things had been bold lately, and with pups on the way, tvar wouldn’t tolerate any risks.

a bundle of sharp stakes lies scattered nearby, crudely whittled but deadly enough to deter anything foolish enough to trespass. he crouches beside them, selecting one and digging it into the frozen earth with a push of his paw, gritting his teeth against the resistance.

the mountain pass forms a natural bottleneck, an ideal choke point to reinforce. tvar works steadily, driving the stakes deep at irregular intervals to form an unwelcoming barrier. his breaths come heavy in the frosty air.