Bearclaw Valley iron defenses

tvar's eyes narrow as the scent thickens in the air. he catches sight of the coyotes through the underbrush, their postures relaxed, unaware of the danger. they're too close to the valley. too bold.

his hazel gaze shifts to ameline for a brief moment, meeting her eyes as if to confirm her thoughts. you take the left, he whispers past caged teeth. he doesn’t wait for a response, his focus snapping back to the pair.

he moves slowly at first, circling wide to cut off their escape. his heart pounds, not with fear, but with the thrill of the hunt, the promise of retribution.

when he’s close enough, tvar lunges without warning, a snarl ripping from his throat. the coyotes scatter, yelping in panic. his jaws snap inches from one’s hind leg as it bolts, forcing it to veer straight toward ameline’s path.