Silvertip Mountain in her arms a lamb

"not just a bear," merrick snapped back, before drawing a sharp breath and composing himself with the air of a man running his fingers through his hair. "i'm sorry. this place ... it's just special to me," the boy explained, searching for empathy in the girl with his creation of a truly apologetic expression.
who was she, and why had she come? was there still a bounty upon his head? his remaining eye did not rove from the newcomer, but already merrick had seen the jut of crystalled rock behind her, above her: only a handful of steps to break her skull if it came to pass that she was one of the band hunting he and his.