Bearclaw Valley those lions are coming, oh they're coming.

no.
no no no no no no,
and the bear spirit was muttering again, chunnering that merrick must not allow her to leave must consume her flesh must shed her blood shut up shut up shut up shut UP SHUT UP
she was withering transforming dying fading dissolving before his eyes he was panicking clinging weeping choking sobbing crying crying crying oh
caiaphas his jaws formed but 
"mama," came instead.
and surely she was wilting breathless swift and savage beneath the weight of his misplaced hope and the title he had never been able to give to anyone in his life.
that was how he would remember her; merrick swiped furiously at his dripping nose with a paw as he watched the woman winnowing into chaff, while he himself could do nothing to stop it.
i love you
"i'll make sure they know your name before they die," the boy promised, for that was love between he and the old woman, how it had always been.
and it would be her epitaph, if merrick had his way.