Bearclaw Valley it's whatever you say it is

russet hackles flared as the boy sulked. astara had acted erratically as of late; he was happy to satisfy her, but still did not understand many things. and she had bitten him! he did not understand.
the young coywolf prowled the borders beset with a frown, but it lifted as he scented fields. the tall blonde boy with shadows smudged beneath his eyes. beautiful one.
he came upon fields and a slight lithe companion that reminded merrick of the foxes he had recently killed with skoll. "brought a gift?" he purred toward his blue-eyed friend, dazzled by the delicate limbs of this pretty stranger.