Bearclaw Valley stay away, away, away

merrick had already been pleased by her very nature in what was left of easthollow. they had swallowed the essence of the dead wolves and their dead land; they had come to and fro and now here she stood.
the bearwolf needed no word. a chuff, his scent of bears and earth and stone and cubs washing over her. he offered his breath and took hers in return, stepping back to invite her beyond the beaten red-dirt path.
into ursus.