Stone Circle he is without a heart

like fine-tuned panthers toad and donovan moved. the yearling boy who had managed to kill rosina was suddenly blocked by a towering mass of ash and fur. he jerked as teeth scored briefly along his muzzle, single eye sneering toward polaris.
"no thanks, grandpa. you fuckin' fossils had your chance," merrick hooted derisively in answer, though his lopsided gaze was trained upon the hen who emerged from the coop to squawk at the lot of them.
they were beyond speech. was the message unclear? dimly he heard the clash of ursus against easthollow: toad curving toward the stupid child, donovan seeking to pulverize the she-wolf who had been the first to scream nonsense.
evien; why was evien here?
merrick did not have time to notice avicus; he tore his stare from the din and lunged for the stone-circle coward who had never indicated a respect for his young neighbor.
not even so much as a potluck or a text back.
and merrick, why the prince was simply bored with being left on read.
his raven flared in a spread of obsidian that dazzled the bearwitch, and he saw in a moment how he might exact a price for both rosina and clay in the same motion. the upstart little royal had died of his wounds, so merrick hoped, but here was the great oak who had tossed the pathetic acorn.
deciding against his chosen opponent, merrick instead followed a bound later, cutting his fangs in a slice across the broad shoulder of greyback. enthused to be so close to the power denied, merrick tittered despite his weak blow: old old old old dessicated, dust to be blown away. 
and his carrionbird ravening and delightful to his eyes, flushing merrick with a deep and answering lust. this then, their legacy. this then, their goblet of wine taken from the veins of easthollow.