Bearclaw Valley they are the force between

astara observed her son and the way instinct tentatively seemed to overtake him. no sooner had she released the wolverine, did her son fall upon it -- an artful pounce followed by the mauling strike of hefty bites and a vicious wrench of his head.

the wolverine was undoubtedly dead. astara lifted her regent muzzle proudly, licking blood (some her own) from her chops as aventus nosed her. well done, her approving gaze seemed to communicate -- they had vanquished their first true predator together, and astara hoped there would be many more to come.