Bearclaw Valley bear with me

even if astara was alone, the intruder would have been no match for the nightshade. her appearance was beguiling — small she was not, nor was she timid — her lurking deportment only scarcely suggested the true iniquity she was capable of. astara, much like her beloved bear, had lived a life of exercised violence —- and as a result, gave no quarter to those who crossed her.

merrick’s dry cackle was the only signal the blackbird needed. she glanced from ico to taylor to assure neither were blooded before she made her own bid for her pound of flesh.

santiago’s words were unheeded as astara closed in. he would be given no stay of execution— while he was mid-rear astara lunged for one of his raised front legs, intent on bringing him down so her bear or taylor could close in.