Bitterroot Valley ✢ And his eyes all over me

AW but maybe @Angel Oak ?

the valley was quiet but for the whisper of wind and the wet sound of teeth against hide. sega crouched beside the fallen caribou, steam still curling from its open ribs, the scent of iron and frost thick in the air.

his claws worked with practiced care, cutting along the grain of muscle, peeling the hide from flesh in slow, deliberate strokes. the pelt would dry well in this weather—cold enough to keep, but not yet frozen stiff.

golden eyes lifted briefly toward the horizon, where the light was thinning between the peaks. soon, the scavengers would come. crows first, then foxes, maybe even wolves who did not know this place belonged to him.