Bearclaw Valley they are the force between

a change had come to her son, who now walked behind her as if he was being lead to his grave. astara paused to inspect him, wondering why his steps had become leaden -- but it was then he huffily stole past her, his eyes hard and strident.

ah, so it would be like that -- astara watched him in amusement, but booked no protest. she nimbly stepped in line behind her son, drawing her nose along the ground where the wolverine's scent became thicker. it would be good practice for him to find the beast himself -- and better practice yet for him to pit his fury against it so he might forget the wretchedness of his emotions, and his resentment towards his dam.