Bearclaw Valley it's whatever you say it is

Ico knew it even before Fields's quip of confirmation — bears were afoot. Maybe not right in this spot, maybe not within eyeshot, but just beyond the treeline he was sure of it. But then something inordinately more immediate made itself known.

The boy with one eye. Dark midnight gloom, but with layers of silky sand both wet and dry. The remaining eye shone like a burning comet, and above it the ear was torn and wretched.

Ico barely had time to clock his gaze before he blinked away submissively and lowered his already delicate form, tail making close friends with the frosted ground.

And then, all of a sudden, a wave of clues rushed towards him —

• Fields had so readily welcomed Ico, a loner with no obvious skills.
  
• He'd made the effort to take Ico all the way to his home at Bearclaw Valley.
  
• ... Where roamed bears; great and thunderous eating machines. Why were these wolves unafraid of the bears? Did they have an understanding?
  
• "Brought a gift?"
  
• "You're pretty quick, ain't you..."
  
• Yes Ico was quick. He'd make such good sport...
  

A gift...

Please don't feed me to the bears!