Bearclaw Valley i know what to do,

guardian trade!

Ikkalrok kept to the borders. While she marked, she sought the scent of Revui. He had abruptly left where they had denned (in the open), and had not returned. Ikkalrok called for him along her patrol; it was not normal for him to be gone for so long, in her own experience. She wondered if she ought to search for him a little more, but was not so inclined to leave the Valley. Not that it was safe, but it was home, and she had the honor to remain there and do her part.

She wondered where the silver bear went as she rolled along the borders, lifting to a stand. Her expression was soured by the thought, not that she was at all sweet to look at in any case.

The call for Revui drew her out from her ministrations along a clot of growth; it was a curious sort of thing that guided her, for she too wondered where the silvery wolf had disappeared to. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps after the events at Astara’s den he had decided to quit the scene altogether and immediately exit stage right, and that was assuming he had been there at all.

She had for the most part not thought much on that fateful night; she had soothed herself into believing that it had to be done. The dog shouldn’t have been there, he shouldn’t have gotten so close to the pup—all of it reasonable, none of it unbridled and unjust in its savagery.

Still, there was a cord of tension in the air that she could not quite place.

It may have been the valley itself. It may have just been her.

She found the dark woman as she paced along, and called a low greeting to her.

“Mind if I join you?” Hopeful as ever, so light in her tone.

She heard the other before she saw them, and the bear of a woman looked over her shoulder to see another black she-wolf there. Fairer than she in several ways, though Ikkalrok could not appreciate such things. Beauty was a thing Ikkalrok could hardly see or determine, which was likely a good thing for all. It served no purpose in battle, and for her own part manipulation through such means was as ineffective as speaking once engaged in warfare.

Her ear cupped and rotated in recognition that she had heard, but her features remained as blank and unreadable as stone touched and weathered only by nature and no other thing. Ikkalrok did seem to wait for a beat, though once Phoebe had arrived to her side she resumed to move again, snuffling piggishly at the borders.