Bearclaw Valley lionizing

here her children were, the pride of ursus -- playing

no, something worse

fighting --

damn it -- they were supposed to kill others, not one another;

astara came on merrick's heels, a limp to her step and yet no less hasty. if she was too late, they might rip one another to shreds. one glance from ashlar, to merrick -- astounded -- how could he simply watch as her red eagle drove into her black bear, how, how?

her heart beat fiercely for her children, and it was only that singular song that kept her at bay. they must sort it among themselves, however cruel it felt to astara -- for there was in every wolf a pecking order, an alpha and omega, a hawk and worm.