Bearclaw Valley they think of her as heartless, but she wasn't heartless

ahhh skip merrick till needed lolol

indra appeared like some terrible archangel heavenbent on revenge; the snarl that poured from his mother's throat was chilling indeed. unbidden, a low growl of his own paced in his throat. merrick was young, but instinct beat hot in his blood. these wolves were other, and must leave. 
neither seemed truly contrite, but the wolf clothed in sunshine was the kinder of the pair. merrick's eyes trained upon her, and then he glanced to his mother, wondering what she made of it.